


Haunted

by Emblue_Sparks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: All Soul's Celebration, Beaufort South Carolina, Bi Dean, Bi Sammy, Bullying, Canon Elements, Dean's compulsive over protectiveness, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fear of Coming Out, Fighting, Fluff, Ghost Story with a Twist, Guaranteed Destiel Ever After, Halloween Homecoming, High School AU, Homophobia, John's a good dad in this one, Kissing, LGBT positive!John, Love for Lilo & Stitch, M/M, Men of Letters & legacies, Misinterpretations, Misplaced Guilt, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, No MCD, Physical Medium!Sam, Sam Fucking Winchester, Self Acceptance, Self Forgiveness, Slow Burn, TFW +puppies, Tag clarifications/Spoiler requests/text marker requests always welcome, Welding Student!Dean, X Files investigations, art student!Cas, burger date at Menage a Twelve, disaster crushes, discussions of therapy, gay cas, ghosts of the past & real ghosts, loss/grief/mourning, major Ohana feels, traumatic public outing, vivid recollections of a loved one's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:27:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 39,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23471659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emblue_Sparks/pseuds/Emblue_Sparks
Summary: Senior year at Lehnegate Academy begins with unremarkable incident for Castiel, a shy skeptic of humanity But when the dreamy new guy, Dean Winchester, saunters through the door claiming the next seat over in Lit class, the confounding rebel unwittingly begins awakening feelings in Cas he's long been avoiding. Feelings which stem from heartbreaking loss, so far impossible to move beyond. Cas soon suspects something odd about him and his brother Sam. Both have an alarming interest in their school's recent series of attacks on students. When mutual interests draw them in, emotional defenses begin lowering between Cas and the devastatingly handsome new rebel.Dean's hidden a tragic secret for most of his life, which isn't easy with a physical medium for a brother, of whom he's unnecessarily overprotective. He longs for a girlfriend or boyfriend, but that would require allowing himself the luxury, which without a doubt he doesn't deserve. Yet Castiel is a gorgeous, moody guy who possesses an allure Dean can't deny. He and Castiel are continuously crossing paths, entangled with painful secrets. Inevitably, they must decide if obtaining their hearts desires, is worth laying to rest the ghosts which haunt them.
Relationships: Balthazar/Hannah(male vessel), Castiel Mills/Dean Winchester, Naomi/Crowley, Sam Winchester/Zeke, past mutual crush between Castiel/Mick Davies, undisclosed F/F
Comments: 123
Kudos: 45
Collections: SPN Media Big Bang 2020, The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ShantiRani](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShantiRani/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome! This is my story for the Media Big Bang 2020! It's also my 2nd bang with the mods, Malmuses and Jscribbles, who make these challenges so pleasant. Thanks to my Alpha Alicethrutheburrows, my Betas @idjitsaviors and tfw_cas! @idjitsaviors also SERIOUSLY blessed me with the stunning artwork in this story which has me melting every time I see each piece. Go show her some love on tumblr please! 
> 
> My source of inspiration for this story was the precious film short, "In a Heartbeat." Here's the YouTube link to refresh your memory or fall in love for the first time: https://youtu.be/2REkk9SCRn0
> 
> As always, I adore comments(including constructive criticism!), love kudos, and welcome any questions, requests for tag clarifications and/or spoilers, text markers, etc. Please don't hesitate to contact me on tumblr!: @emblue-sparks
> 
> This fic is for ShantiRani, a believer in every kind of Smart!Dean there is and Compassionate!Cas who loves him unconditionally with eternal awe. I hope this story captures for you some of what's been lost.

_  
**~Prologue~** _

_Sophomore Year  
_

_January 17, 2017_

_8:52pm_

"You're not falling behind Cas, you've never dropped below a three point five grade point average. Seriously, what's got you so worried?" Meg handed him the missed assignments folder and sat beside him on his bed.

Getting the flu and double ear infections during the first week of the second semester just blew. Yet, Meg had faithfully brought him his assignments each day from school.

"There's labs to complete, I can't do'em at home."

With a raised eyebrow, she looked suspicious. "Mr. Crowley holds monthly makeup sessions. Is that _really_ why you're anxious to get back? _Science_?"

In truth, it was half the reason. The other was a sixteen year old exchange student from England named Mick Davies. The guy had thrown well crafted flirtations wrapped in a Cockney accent at him from the get go. His carefree openness had inspired Cas to test out the same attitude. 

His brief hesitation gave him away and she mischievously smiled, having discovered a juicy secret. 

"Is there someone at school you're missing? Hmm? I won't tell a soul, I swear on my stuffed unicorn."

Jody had adopted Cas and Meg when they were toddlers. Meg's unicorn was the only item from their 'past life' she'd kept. Swearing on it meant serious business between brother and sister. 

"Promise."

Cas watched as Meg's eyes sparkled with curiosity, and her right hand raised in oath. "By Clarence's rainbow horn, this secret shall never fall from my lips."

That was the moment he'd tested his courage and took a leap of faith. "Think I'm gay. I like my lab partner. He likes me too."

Her face went blank, her eyes darted everywhere but back at him. Fumbling with her phone, she swiftly stammered, "I-I gotta go. Sorry. Tell Mom I'll call her when I can."

Just like that, she'd fled. He witnessed her setting up her phone's bluetooth while engaged in conversation, backing out of the driveway. Part of him clung to the belief she'd never betray him. But the other part was devastated, knowing he'd managed to disappoint his only blood relative. 

He'd spent the next two hours conjuring a valid excuse for her absence. Feverish and achy, he'd ventured out for tea, when finding his mom bracing herself against the counter. He hadn't heard her come in, couldn't hear much of anything with those darn ear infections. 

Jody's face was ghostly pale. He noticed her uniform drenched in blood and rain. 

"Mom! You're hurt? What's wrong?"

With tears in her eyes, she trembled when holding him close. "R-responded to dispatch. Collision. Trucker fell asleep at the wheel. B-both girls dead on scene. Cas, it was Meg and Lilith."

  
  


**Chapter 1**

Carolina summers are sweltering, even along the coast. Cas had to convince himself, as he dragged his feet along the cemetery's freshly cut grass back to his truck, that it wasn't an asthma attack he was experiencing. The salty sweat dripping down his forehead stung his eyes. He was kicking himself for not bringing a towel, tissues, _something_ to this boneyard bash. Although, he hadn't exactly been in the most rational state when fleeing the house at one am, seeking consolation after a particularly difficult nightmare.

Sometimes he didn't know why he visited her. He never conversed out loud, anyways. During these late night visits, he more or less just thought _at_ her. Occasionally feeling better afterwards. Even in Meg's mortal silence, Cas felt soothed. _Calmed_. The return trek to his 1970 C10 pickup, however, was steadily undoing whatever serenity he'd achieved. 

That, and the pale figure standing beside a marker, spacing out in his direction. Cas's heart damn near lept from his chest upon realizing the guy was watching him huff and puff among the tombstones, with zero shame.

_Who the hell lurks in a cemetery at this unholy hour, having staring contests with complete strangers?_

When realizing he hadn't broken eye contact, there was no denying he was one of two willing, weirdo participants. Tripping over a gravestone while maintaining eye contact only drove home how much Cas needed to pay the hell attention. Despite only the shadowy form for reference, Cas experienced a familiar, yet infuriating stirring. Dammit! Why did _he_ happen to react in the most uncommon way to this highly unsettling situation in which he found himself? 

All the way home, he fixated on the riling encounter. It's not like the guy had done anything to offend him, a fellow nocturnal grave goer. A totally normal activity for a senior-to-be in a few hours. 

Showering would awaken his mother, along with her curiosity as to why the heck he was roaming the hallway, drenched in sweat, and breathing heavily at three in the morning. From the pool of possible explanations, he couldn't decide if her logical assumptions or the truth would be more damning. So he flopped back on his bed, leaving the shower for later, and forgot all about the Marble Orchard Man, as sleep once again dragged him below its murky depths.

***

Cas's alarm clock blared Van Halen's _Jump!_ He awakened covered in sweat, again, wiping tears from his cheeks.Best start to Senior year ever. 

He threw a cursory glance to Clarence, whom since that ill fated night, had perched on his nightstand doing a terrible job at dream catching. He jumped in the shower, letting memories settle around him. It’d been a rough two and a half years since losing Meg; unfortunately though, time waits for no man, nor his wish to graduate.

Jody made him pancakes and gave him a 'good luck' hug for the day. The morning ran smooth as silk. Lunch time found him on his usual bench with Eileen.

***

"Seriously? W-what's an iPod? Do you seriously not know?" Cas signed, unsure if his friend’s question stemmed more from sarcasm than genuine curiosity.

"Is it a shirt brand?" Eileen signed back.

Concentrating for a minute, he wondered, "Are you thinking of Izod, the polos with little alligators?"

She nodded with a smile.

"No, an iPod isn't clothes. Jesus, how strict _are_ your parents?"

Rolling her eyes, Eileen explained, "No boys, no phone calls after nine pm, no skirts above the knees, and no wild music."

Sounded like an absolute buzzkill to Cas, but Eileen couldn't change her parents' rules. They weren't even inclined to fix their phone, lest she _receive_ calls before nine. 

"It plays music, you listen through headphones. Well, other people do."

Eileen never got offended by anything Cas said. He was direct, but in a factual sense, as opposed to others who vomited careless thoughts.

***

That'd been two years ago when they'd met at Lehnegate Academy. The two of them on their favorite bench at lunchtime, had grown to three. 

Kevin slid in beside Eileen, delivering the news of the hour with tangible annoyance. "Met the new guys yet? Damn freshmen won't shut up about swoon worthy Sam 'whatever-his-last-name is," he said, using the proverbial air quotes, "The rest are drooling over the older one. As if this school needs any more good-looking guys bumping the competition."

Mild interest piqued inside Cas, but he shoved it down real fast. "Wasn't aware you were in the running. Haven't heard or seen them. Maybe they can distract Bartholomew for a while, give us a chance to breathe."

Cas knew Kevin's heart was taken by none other than Eileen Leahy, the one girl no guy could have, as dictated by her parents. 

The rest of lunch passed quickly, with Kevin stumbling through signing with Eileen about her summer activities, which never wavered from staying somewhere out west with her grandmother. 

When the lunch bell heralded the end of their thirty minute reprieve, each friend waved with understanding they'd return when schedules allowed. 

Sitting in the far corner waiting for fifth period to commence, Cas had begun sketching _Catcher in the Rye's_ Holden, talking at night with his sister, Phoebe. 

The scene he'd chosen from the famed novel held for him a unique melancholy, which over the last couple of years he'd learned to let anchor within. Cas's emotions snapped back to reality with a hard lurch by both his Lit Professor and a new student plopping his butt in the chair to his right. His insides twisted immediately, and a flash of something on the edge of satisfying recollection, evaded him.

Who the hell was this dream boat and why was he sitting next to _him?_ Seriously, the guy was jaw dropping. The future Jarhead would probably hook up with the first cheerleader throwing heart eyes in his direction and never even acknowledge _his_ existence, which made him want to eye roll in frustration. 

The Rebel had been on the verge of asking him a question, when he'd caught the eye roll Cas had _not actually_ meant to do. He made a hard U turn, raising his hand with a discontented expression.

"Yes, Mr. Winchester?" Mr. Ketch prompted, seeing his hand in the air.

"Gave my pencil pack to my little brother who lost his, happen to have a spare?"

Cas noticed him squirming uncomfortably in his seat, all for a pencil he himself would have so easily provided. He felt like dog crap.

Mr. Ketch regarded 'Winchester' with a devilish smirk. "I expect you to arrive in my class prepared. The pen is mightier than the sword, and it's anyone's guess which demons will be gallivanting through the tales this year brings, hm?"

As Cas was busy kicking his own ass and wallowing in misery, he spotted a pink pencil with a spring loaded eraser topper of an obnoxious red heart appear on New Guy's desk from his neighbor to the right. 

"Thanks," Winchester smiled in appreciation at none other than Lisa Berry, Lehnegate's head cheerleader. 

It hadn't been any heart eyes sending him towards the first cheerleader, but his own pessimistic peepers. 

Cas focused on Mr. Ketch for the remainder of the period, which included a fifteen minute window in which they were to write an example of how the device of misunderstanding and/or misinterpretation has been employed in literary works to drive the suspense of a story. 

Testing his "preparedness," Mr. Ketch called on "Mr. Winchester" first. 

"Puck, in Shakespeare's _A Midsummer's Night Dream_ , misunderstood King Oberon of the Faeries description of whom he was supposed to whammy with the love spell, causing most of the drama."

Mr. Ketch looked impressed. "Excellent. A bonus point if you remember a notable quote..?"

"The course of true love never did run smooth," was Winchester's prompt response, while gazing at Lisa, "easy to remember cause as long as I show my 'Baby' plenty of love, she runs smooth." 

Cas heard a throaty giggle that made him want to puke. 

At the sound of the sixth period bell, he ghosted himself to avoid the fruits of his carelessness unfolding before his very eyes. The same eyes that had reacted to a pretty unfounded assumption before even meeting the guy. He just wanted the day to be over.

Back at home, he gazed at the picture on his dresser. A girl splattered in blue acrylic paint smiled, leaning into him, while his own stained fingers held a painting of a very Impressionism-like Lilo & Stitch. 

The movie had been her favorite, and triggered her obsession with all things Polynesian Paradise to the point she'd wanted to live there someday because she loved the culture so much. Meg had commissioned him to draw the animated Disney pair entangled in hibiscus flower necklaces, and he'd insisted she include her mark in some capacity. Cas laughed looking at Stitch's wonky eye staring off in the wrong direction. 

She really hadn't been artistically gifted. But she'd been his sister. His best friend. 'Ohana means family' after all. ‘And family means nobody gets left behind. Or forgotten.'

Strange, it hadn't worked out that way. He'd loved her, still loved her, even though it'd been over two years since the night she died. The night he'd finally summoned the gumption to share his secret with her. 

"Cas? You home, bud?"

He wiped a clinging tear before his mom could see. "In my room, getting a head start."

Pausing in his doorway, bedecked in her official Sheriff's attire, his mother blessed him with a warm smile and a takeout bag from the best burger joint in town, "Ménage à Twelve." 

Weird name. Great food. And every one of the twelve burgers on the menu were _to die for._ The whole of Beaufort was hoping next year it became Ménage à Thirteen. Balthazar, the owner of the establishment and somewhat of an uncle to him as well as his husband Hannah, had perfected twelve burger combinations and claimed no intention of ever stopping. Lucky for him, once in a while they needed shift help, which included free food and taste testing.

Perking up a little, he was tempted out of his room by the prospect of food, along with a _Rick and Morty_ rewatch-the Pickle Rick episode, of course. For a little while at least, he set aside his troubled mood, tuning in for crass humor beside his Mom, who loved him to the moon and back. 

**☆☆☆☆☆**

"Dinner's ready! You boys wash up first, understand?" John hollered from the barely unpacked kitchen. 

They'd skidded into town the night before, having trekked nonstop from Sioux Falls. A delayed retirement release prompted a quick trip to Uncle Bobby's for a few days. A hunk of junk from the salvage yard for Sam was secured on the back of their trailer hauled by John in his double cab pick up, followed by Dean in Baby. They'd booked it out of the Dakotas towards some Carolina shoreline, just in time for school to start. 

With a stellar career in the Marines, John had his pick of retirement spots. Dean had overheard John saying to Bobby he hoped to spend the remainder of years they'd still be home, in a place providing ample opportunity in both civilian/military careers and excellent educational institutions. 

It didn't hurt that Lehnegate Academy was located down the street from the Marine base. Children of service men and women received a generous discount in tuition at the academy, which boasted an academic report as impressive as the miles of picturesque coastal scenery the state offered. _It could definitely be worse,_ Dean thought to himself. 

"I'm starving," Sammy growled like a feral raccoon, charging down the hall for dibs at the bathroom sink.

"Just give us a chance at a slice or two this time, alright?" His brother's steadily growing height was often outmatched by his gargantuan appetite. 

"Har, har Dean. It's called a growth spurt."

"Nu-huh. That zit in the middle of your forehead is the growth that's gonna spurt. Dude, I just bought you more noxzema pads. Dad made a couple of pizzas, so go easy, cause your face is gonna turn into one if you're not careful."

Sam's face suddenly calmed, his eyes staring off away from Dean. Seconds later he stated, "I think not."

"Oh, I think it will. Gonna start calling you Sammy Supreme." Chuckling, Dean tossed a hand towel in his face and bailed for the kitchen. 

When stomachs had ceased grumbling, John inquired about the day's activities. "Everything go smoothly?"

"I lost my pencils," Sam grumbled in earnest. "But Dean gave me his."

Dean stopped John from pulling a five dollar bill from his wallet. "It's just pencils, Dad. I got it."

He knew his dad had it. They'd never struggled from paycheck to paycheck. But it was just pencils for crying out loud. For Sam. 

"School supplies are my responsibility. I know you're smart with your allowance, but spend it on yourself once in a while. Buy a CD recorded sometime this century, go on a date. Speaking of, tell me about your classmates. Everybody friendly?"

Dean grinned when Sam immediately blushed and took a bite, so as to stall a few seconds longer from answering. 

John smiled widely at them both glancing at each other. "A crush already, Sam? Girl? Or boy?"

Dean had come out to John as bi a few years back. He thanked his stars his dad had been so open about it. So when Sam indicated he might be too, the relaxed climate of acceptance in their home provided the supportive space to figure himself out.

Quickly over his shyness, Sam beamed while swallowing his mouthful of pizza. "He's taller than me. And nice."

Losing Mary so long ago had been hard on Dean and his dad. Despite a tough road to recovery, it only strengthened John's belief that love should be cherished. Period. 

Dean had a different take away from the loss, but for now brushed it aside to lovingly interrogate about the kid who had Sammy's heart going pitter-patter. 

"Does tall and nice have a name? Or do I need to gather freshmen supplied intel on him?" He laughed at Sam's suddenly horrified expression, "His name, Bitch, fork it over."

John side-eyed him on that one. "He doesn't have to tell us right now. It's good to have friends. Take your time."

Sam nodded, appreciative of John's words. Dean shot him a 'you know I'm kidding' wink, noting how he relaxed after the silent reassurance he'd never actually out him. 

John prodded at Dean, "What about you?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he was hesitant with a reply. "Fine, I guess." 

He didn't feel like mentioning the guy who'd eye rolled him. He seemed alright for a hot second, Dean would even go so far as to say he'd was pretty good looking. But something had crawled up his ass when Dean turned to borrow a pencil.

"All the chatter I heard was about this hot new freshmen. Sammy something."

Sam's face shot up from his plate in shock. "Nuh-uh! You're so full of it, Jerk!" He tossed his messy, crumpled napkin at Dean with a smartass grin.

Dean watched John listening with interest to Sam ramble on about his classes. It surprised him how irked he was over Eye Roll guy. What the hell had he ever done to him? Maybe he'd had a bad day, who knew. But something about him felt different, _familiar._

Long after dinner, the house quieted for homework. When his Lit assignment was complete Dean mosied out to the kitchen, dropping the five his dad left on his dresser. He knew this game, five dollar tag. John would blow up over it, and he'd deal when it happened. 

He checked his watch, peeking on Sam getting geometry help. 

"Ten thirty, Dad. You gotta be up at four a.m. tomorrow. I'll help him with the rest.

"Finish History yet?" John interrogated.

"Iroquois Treaty, then I'm done."

Sam assured, "I'm good Dad, think I got it. Mr. Deveraux only said to do the odds anyway. Thanks."

"Anytime." John kissed the top of Sam's head and slowly stood, his not-so-spry form sounding off with snaps, crackles, and pops. "This geezer's turning in."

Resting his hand lightly on Dean's shoulder in passing, John silently bid him goodnight. 

Sam turned off his light and crawled into bed, softly scolding Dean. "He doesn't understand, you know. When you do that."

"Do what?" Dean feigned ignorance.

"Parent me. Him. He feels he's failed us in some way but since you don't talk, he never understands why."

"All that from a single touch, huh? Why would _he_ feel like a failure? He's worked his ass off for us. Even when he was deployed he called as often as he could."

"I'm just saying that's what I pick up."

"M'kay. No reading, Go to sleep."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Ezekiel. Tall and nice. But he said I can call him Zeke."

Sam sounded excessively tired. Dean hoped it wouldn't be a problem, but he'd pack Advil just in case. 

He smiled when asking, "Can I meet him tomorrow?"

Deep, even breathing with a slight snore was his only reply.

Allowing the day's events to wind down, he thought about his classes, especially welding. Already he had some amazing projects in mind. He couldn't keep his thoughts from drifting for very long back to that guy who'd shot him the weird ass look. There was something intriguing about him, he just couldn't put his finger on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When deciding on a school name, the determing factor was the actor who played Azazel in canon, Fredrick Lehne. I've seen him in numerous other things and since the school in my story was privately funded by the characters "prestigious family"...Lehnegate Academy it was. 
> 
> "The course of true love never did run smooth," - Shakespeare, A Midsummer's Nights Dream.


	2. Chapter 2

Cas sat contentedly on the school bench working on his sketch of Holden and Phoebe, when an alluring engine rumble of a classic car eclipsed the morning's chirpfest. 

A strange 'lub-dub' fluttered in his chest as he beheld an ebony wonder on wheels pulling into the student parking lot. When he spotted the driver and passenger climbing out, he darted behind some nearby shrubbery. Of course Dean would drive _that._

After yesterday's blunder he was in no mood to approach the guy and stumble through an awkward explanation over random eyeball movement. 

Suddenly, his heart kicked into flight like nitro to a Dodge Charger screaming along in an illegal street race. It pounded painfully against his ribcage while he hid below the hedgeline, listening to Dean casually passing by. Cas watched him walk away, observing a hot apple pie pocket from McDonald's in his right hand and a book in his left. It surprised him how badly he wanted to know what Dean was reading. 

A compulsion unlike anything he'd felt before had him crawling up the tree and yanked him up further still, for a better look. Dean paused, bringing the book closer to his face. Cas saw his shoulders shake in quiet laughter and his weight, playfully alternating, from one foot to the other. 

Clinging to the thick branch, Cas's body involuntarily slumped into relaxation while beholding Dean, thoroughly engrossed in a book he seemed to cherish. The beauty of the scene swept over him in a fervent wave, leaving him damn near breathless. Which might've been from the exorbitant amount of energy spent hanging in the tree, indulging himself in how splendid Dean looked when lost in a story. 

Terror suddenly seized him when an unexpected tap against his leg caused him to tense, then pull himself higher. That worked out real well. 

He swore little black muscle cars with wings were flying in a circle around his head after cracking it loudly on the smaller branch above. His hands slipped and his shirt collar snagged on a knot, pulling his school sweater over his face. He briefly struggled, dangling like a Magic Mike trainwreck; shirtless and wiggling his hips, showcasing what felt like claw marks down his chest and tum from a drunk and disorderly cougar attack.

So this is how he'd die. From mortification. But not until he unsnagged himself first. He hoped Dean was none the wiser, and had kept on trekking.

A chill rushed past as he finally fell from the branch, landing on his ass, facing an incredibly curious looking Eileen. 

"Who are you spying on?" She animatedly signed. 

Well, at least their form of conversation wouldn't alert Dean to his calamitous stalker.

"Nobody! Ow! Jesus, where'd you apparate from?"

Eileen pursed her lips when contemplating a serious answer to his question. 

"I was in a crap mood yesterday after Literature and went home. Sorry."

Always so forgiving, she kindly offered, "That's alright. Sometimes you just want to make yourself invisible. But what were you doing up there? Bird watching?"

Her expression was so endearing, Cas adored her.

"Yes. Interesting species. Rare."

"Its name?" she wondered.

"Impalas Volerus."

"A winged Impala? No such thing." She regarded him with her arms crossed in intense speculation. 

Peeking around the tree, he saw no sign of Dean. Great. He was a pro at running people off.

"If you hit your head hard enough."

"Ha, ha."

"Did you understand that physics homework last night?"

She nodded with confidence. "Difficulty making the distinction between frictional force and tensional force?"

He hated to admit it, but nodded anyways. 

" _You_ would."

"Eff you," he flipped her off with lovable sarcasm. 

She giggled, which brought a smile to his face. He loved her laugh. 

***

He liked having art first period. The teacher had hung pictures from the school's archives. Stunning moments captured by previous photography students adorned the back wall.

His eyes consistently returned to a black and white of a dark haired girl with pale skin and warm eyes. A cello rested comfortably between her knees, as if neither instrument nor human felt home without the other’s presence. The picture conveyed a thorough contentment.

However, the aspect of it which tugged at Cas's heart the strongest when glancing in its direction, was the astonishing love shining through the girl’s quiet smile. Her utterly besotted expression, captured with heartbreaking perfection, was the same in which Cas had dreamt a boy might someday look back at him. 

Whatever they had, he pined for, but knew his chances were slim. Nevertheless, the recipient of this look, given by Sophomore Cellist-Ruby Cortese, was truly lucky to have been loved so deeply. Maybe they still were. 

Later, when en route to the locker room for P.E., he noticed one entrance to the boys’ side had been draped in yellow tape and orange construction cones. Stressed voices were echoing around the corner, and..other music? 

Recognizing one of the students, he stomped towards the escalating situation, nearly crashing into Bartholomew. The jerk was snarling in the face of some poor kid, unfortunately trapped in his clutches. 

Bart's ridiculous Chucky-shaded red hair was a constant source of jokes behind his back. That in combination with his Letterman's jacket and beady eyes, turning their nefarious gaze on him, lended to a demonic Archie appearance. 

Cas swore he could actually see steam billowing from his flared nostrils like some cartoonish bull. He'd already been held back a grade, yet since his dad's family inheritance bankrolled the academy, expulsion was out of the question. 

Cas gave him the stink eye. 

"Beat it, asswipe. This don't concern you."

" _Doesn't_. C'mon now 'Biff.' We all know your dad would beat you senseless for intentionally using improper grammar. It's why your pathetic, power tripping ass constantly picks on smaller kids. So why don't you make like a tree, hm?"

Bartholomew rarely backed down from confrontations. "Or what? Mama Mills raised her baby boy to never start a fight!"

As his hand unclenched from the kid’s shirt and raised in a predictable trajectory, Cas stepped forward, easily blocking the incoming right cross. As he did so, the kid stepped back and kicked Bart in the junk. The asshole hunched forward in reaction, but the freshman anticipated that and delivered a sharp upper cut. 

Bartholomew was furious. Swinging, his left hand missed Cas's nose, but made contact with his cheek just under the eye. 

This freshman was full of unexpected piss and vinegar. Bartholomew had seriously underestimated his unwillingness to take shit from anybody. One second Bart was finding his equilibrium and the next he was laid out, wondering which vomit comet of a roller coaster he'd fallen from.

Cas witnessed this boy menacingly stand over Bart, both dukes up, issuing a warning.

"My dad raised me the same way. Except he's a Marine. We don't start fights, but we damn well finish them. Touch me again, you'll be eating through a straw."

Still dazed, Bart was attempting to push his upper half off the ground. "Wh-who the fuck you th-th-"

"Sam fucking Winchester. That's who."

Cas leaned over a bleeding Bart, reminding him of his serious misstep. 

"A freshman just beat the shit out of you. You've passed peak performance, assbutt."

The kid snorted, "Assbutt?"

Cas just shrugged, then spotted an irritated Headmistress gunning for them behind Sam. 

Before things went sideways, Cas introduced himself. Sam was in the middle of thanking him when Mrs. Naomi asked why two out of three students looked like contestants in a bloody and fugly contest, and why they'd been lurking behind the school unsupervised, as renovations had begun that morning.

Cas quickly explained, "I saw Bart up to his usual crap. But Sam stood up for himself, pretty well, actually."

Mrs. Naomi looked exasperated with Bart. "Get in the office. _NOW._ The rest of you will see the school nurse while I call your parents."

Bart put on a brave face, but Cas had dealt with him enough to see he was pissing himself at the thought of his dear old Dad. 

As all four began heading towards the front of the school, a cacophony of horrified screams arose from inside the girls’ locker room. Mrs. Naomi stiffened. Metallic crashes were heard as girls began trampling each other to get out. 

Cas saw Lisa with mascara running down her cheeks, and a significant blood stain was soaking through her T-shirt on her shoulder.

Mrs. Naomi pulled her to the side. "What's going on in there?!"

"A..a.. _thing_ has Emma. A b b-ig dark smokey- I don't know what, but it's flinging her around, smashing her into the lockers and wall! You've got to do something before she's killed!" 

Sam darted into the fray before anyone could stop him. Cas heard him yelling something unintelligible and the noise immediately stopped. Sam came back looking rattled as hell.

"Call 911. The girl's hurt pretty bad! She's not talking, I dunno what that thing is."

Minutes later an ambulance arrived along with Jody, taking the girl’s statements. 

Cas wished he could hide. His mom worried enough and had a lot on her plate. Nevertheless…

"Castiel, what happened to you?"

Cas pointed behind him to Bart, leaning up against the outer locker room wall looking like someone had crucified him to it. Jody rolled her eyes in understanding

"This is Sam Winchester, he and his brother are new."

"Hi Sam, you alright?"

Cas knew something was off with Sam when he'd come out of the locker room.

"Yeah, headaches. I get them sometimes. Gonna head to the nurse's office. Thanks Castiel."

"I'm gonna follow him over there and grab an ice pack. I'll be okay. Promise."

Jody looked uncertain, but refocused with renewed vigor when eyeballing Bartholomew. Funny, surrounded by strong women, the asshole suddenly had nothing to say. 

Once in the Nurse's office, Cas grabbed an ice pack, noticing Sam curled upon the bed, looking like death warmed over. 

**☆☆☆☆☆**

Dean had been heading for history when the distant echo of screams reached his ears, as if a tiger had been let loose. Sam had P.E. second period, it was a valid excuse for a welfare check. 

Dean found Lisa trembling through her testimony with Mrs. Naomi. 

"Did Emma seem to have interacted with whatever it was? Talk with, or at it?"

Lisa shook her head while crying. "It came up behind her."

"From the far wall?"

"Yes."

Turning to Mrs. Naomi, Dean switched into big brother mode. "Sam's my kid brother. Was he around when this happened?"

"He's in the nurse's office. I'm sure he'd appreciate a _brief_ visit."

It was no surprise finding Sam in his trademark migraine position. 

"Up for some Advil, Ghostfacer?" Dean whispered, turning off the light and pulling out the mini pill bottle from his pocket. 

The subtle sound of pills rattling had him slowly sitting up, just as Dean knew it would. "What happened out there?"

Reaching for the bottle, a pained Sam described the event. "There's something here. I've seen worse, but never this close."

"Like, dead person bad or…"

"It was so angry I couldn't tell. I saw eyes. Really big eyes. They looked human."

"What did you feel?"

"Rage. But also, sadness? Well concealed sadness. But right before I sent it away, the emotions leaked through. I wanted to cry."

"Because you were afraid? C'mon Sam, that doesn't sound like you."

"Not for me, _it."_

 _"_ You sure? You look pretty amped."

"I was in a fight right before it happened."

"You what?!"

"I'm fine. Some Senior was being an uber douche… a guy named Castiel helped. Took a shiner for me, but he pulled Bart off long enough for me to lay him out."

"This Senior asshole, he the uglier Archie with the Letterman's jacket?"

"Yeah. But Dean, something's happening here. It'll get worse unless the Headmistress clears out the girls’ locker room for a while."

"You need to go home and sleep this off?"

"Nah, I can power through."

Dean cast him a look of suspicion. "This have anything to do with Mr. Tall and Nice?"

"Yeah, a little to do with Zeke, mostly don't want to get behind though."

Dean knew damn well if his brother wasn't suffocating under a mountain of pressure and pain, Sam would have been blushing. But it wasn't the time to rib him. "Be careful with this thing. Gimme more time until you fall victim to 'your fate,'" he air quoted with resentment.

When Sam was eleven, he'd told Dean physical mediums didn't experience longevity like normal people. The side effect of touching things and others, was taking on their damage, wearing out their bodies prematurely. It messed Dean up hearing his little brother speak like that. Because he was usually right when it came to this stuff. 

Walking out of the office, Dean startled at Sam's hand aggressively tugging the back of his shirt when met with a severe looking, middle-aged man seemingly on a mission from Hell. He noted the high quality of suit, and the air of authority with which he carried himself.

A smile plastered itself across the man's face with fox-like cunning, and he extended his hand in introduction.

"You boys must be the Winchesters, John and I spoke a few weeks ago to finalize your admissions. Azazel Lehne, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Sam never shied away from proper introductions, so Dean knew something was wrong when noticing him withdraw, holding his head in discomfort.

As he shook Mr. Lehne's hand he explained, "Sam's got a migraine. Dean. Nice to meet you."

Mr. Lehne's eyes flickered with brief recognition, but of what Dean couldn't say. 

"You heading home?"

Dean replied, "Personal rule of his, don't do anything requiring makeup homework."

An uneasy smile slithered across Lehne's face. "Life is a game, boy. ‘Life is a game that one plays according to the rules.’”

Sam and Dean stared at him blankly, not catching his meaning.

Lehne clarified, "In this case one's personal rules. You play the 'never get behind' game, and you'll always be ahead."

Sam remained silent.

"I'll leave you to your studies. Feel better Sam, and do let me know if you're in particular need of anything."

 _Weird_. Unsure what to make of Lehne's outright interest in Sam, Dean stepped aside to let him pass. 

"That's Bartholomew's Dad!" Sam urgently whispered.

"Explains why he looked so pissed."

"Something's off, stay away from him."

Dean semi-pleaded, "I'd rather you do that."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we make of Cas spying on Dean, hm? Any thoughts yet on our mystery monster?
> 
> "‘Life is a game that one plays according to the rules.”-Catcher in the Rye, Salinger.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm afraid Mr. Lehne wants to see you before we dismiss you, Castiel. You'll let me know if you need anything?"

"Yeah." Cas's stomach lurched watching Mr. Crowley thin himself against the doorway, avoiding contact with Mr. Lehne walking in. He wondered if there was a veiled assurance in his stated proximity when tossing out, "I'll only be a few moments next door."

He swore the room's temperature jumped fifteen degrees when Azazel slithered in the room, shutting the door behind him. 

"Castiel," he regarded him with mild annoyance and feigned concern, "that's not too bad at all. From the description I was given I thought you might lose an eye."

Confusion, then irritation flared at the accusation he'd overplay his own injuries when it was his son's dumbassery who'd caused it in the first place. "It's just a graze, nobody said it was broken."

"Hmm. Good to see it isn't worse."

"It'd be good not to see it at all. Your son had no business cornering a freshman behind the gym. He was all up in the kid’s personal space, grabbing his shirt, and yelling at him.”

"I'll hear his explanation shortly. What was it _you_ were doing back there? A crew was to begin renovations this morning. Now they're off schedule until we get answers."

"Bart was being a jackwagon. I stepped in. There's my side! Maybe you should be more concerned with the girl who injured herself trying to save another from having her neck broken by whatever attacked her! You're more worried about my business and a construction schedule than anyone harmed today by Batholomew or the bizarro crap!"

Something blazed in Azazel's face, he was swiftly losing composure. "I don't take kindly to those accusations, boy. Seems to me there were two senior sized boys against one. Hardly fair now, is it?"

Papers rustled off the desk when the door swung open and Mr. Crowley shot him a glimpse of worry. Cas watched as Azazel carefully placed an expression of civility across his face. The man didn't even deserve to be called a snake. 

Cas asked Mr. Crowley yet again, "May I go to class please?"

"Go ahead."

It was lunchtime when Cas greeted Kevin and Eileen at their usual bench, and was surprised to find Sam timidly approaching with a lanky teen towing behind. 

"Sam, how are you feeling?"

"Headache, but it'll pass. Just wanted to say thanks again for helping. This is Zeke."

The kid waved and offered a shy smile. 

"You did most of the work, but nobody should have to deal with Bart. Oh, this is Kevin Tran," Cas gestured in introduction.

Kevin was looking a little too enthused with the break in monotony at the expense of Cas's cheekbone. "Hey, I was just asking what happened to this butterface. Pony up, if you've got more deets."

Cas noticed Zeke watching their ASL intently. "Sorry, Kevin gets over excited sometimes. This is my best friend Eileen Leahy."

Both boys uncomfortably gestured a hello. Cas chuckled watching Kevin trip over himself and his poor manners.

"Jeez sorry, yeah, Eileen the science whiz. She's awesome. Has the answer to damn near everything. Really, she's amazing."

_Crush much Kevin?_

Autocorrecting his own nose dive, Kevin switched gears and prompted Sam to spill about Bart. Just as he began, Cas stilled when the voice of the Rebel suddenly fired off next to him.

"Well, well. Aren't you the social butterfly, Sammy."

"Oh hey Dean. Um, this is Zeke. And ah, Kevin, Eileen, and Castiel."

When Dean turned to meet him, Cas knew the guy would see his black eye and cheek. Already on edge about it, he nervously messed with the small ice pack already melting. 

"You're the one who helped Sam this morning? I appreciate that." The guy's voice softened there at the end. 

It did things to Cas. Things he wished it didn't. Deciding deflection was best, he waved it off. "Bart's an a-hole. Glad Sam can defend himself though. Marine family?"

"Yep. You?"

"My mom's the Sheriff."

As Dean met the rest of the group, Cas wondered if he was the only one picking up on how curiously Dean watched his brother communicating with Kevin and Eileen.

Cas's heart went pitter patter every time Dean looked directly at him. A warm, fuzziness in his lower tummy heated when hearing him speak. 

The biggest reaction, however, was an almost painful shiver down his spine, as a knowing stare boring holes through his very soul came from Eileen.

**☆☆☆☆☆**

Dean knew Sam had a big evening ahead between homework and John asking for a recap. So when school let out, he drove right home.

Dean suggested, "Situation got more complicated this afternoon, just focus tonight on homework and getting some rest, okay? I'll try explaining things to them."

"Give everybody a few days, let's see how that sophomore's doing."

"Alright."

Surprised to see John's pick up in the driveway, Dean asked why he was home so soon.

"We were loading up Hannah's trucks and fixing to leave when a call came in about an incident at the school, so work there in the locker rooms was canceled. You alright, Sam?"

"Yeah, headache is all. It was Mr. Lehne's son, I handled it though, like you taught me."

"I figured. Keep an eye on those headaches. The doctor gave you the Imitrex for a reason. What else happened? Hannah mentioned an attack?"

"Separate thing. Miss Naomi's checking into it."

With reluctance John asked, " _Your_ kind of separate?" 

"Mmhmm. Already promised Dean I'd let the Headmistress worry about it, especially today."

Dean had allowed Sam to disclose only the perception part of which he'd been "gifted." Although Sam disagreed, Dean reasoned John dealt with enough, having lost Mary and raising them both. He saw no sense in worrying him further about his continued entanglement with spirits and the veil. 

With a warm smile, John agreed. "Wise choice. I'll bring you your pill and get dinner started."

Dean's eyes followed Sam meandering down the hall, already tugging off his uniform. 

"Grab that ground beef out of the freezer, I'll make us some meatloaf."

Dean shook his head, "Already ahead of you. Took out thighs last night for chicken cordon bleu and a caesar."

John tried concealing his exasperation, but failed. He firmly stated, "No. You're starting on _your_ homework. I'll make the chicken and salad. Not like work's been grueling." 

Relenting, Dean abandoned the chicken on the counter and washed his hands. "Tell me about your boss."

John had retired from the military, but he hadn't retired altogether. Being type A, he'd looked for intermittent work. Falling back on old construction skills, a fellow marine had connected him with his younger brother in Beaufort. 

Hannah Roché ran a successful contracting business, and once in a while found himself in need of an extra pair of hands with a project. John happened to be a pair of hands looking for the occasional project. 

"Pretty successful for someone in his early thirties. Real by-the-books kind of guy. He commands a healthy respect and gets it. His husband owns a popular burger joint, ahh… Ménage á Twelve. This weekend we can check it out, if Sammy's feeling better."

Never one to turn down a good burger, Dean immediately offered his enthusiasm.

"Sounds good." 

**☆☆☆☆☆**

The next day, halfway through Lit class, Castiel couldn't help but notice the difference in how Dean regarded him. His curiosity also extended to questions about Kevin and Eileen. 

The 'Famed Literary Quotes' bingo game Ketch set up left Cas seriously impressed with Dean; he'd proven himself quite the bookdragon.

They both laughed when Cas read off something more contemporary. "If plan KTB (kill the bastard) didn't work, well, Gray would resort to Plan B: Operation Oh Sh**"

"Gena Showalter, _Jewel of Atlantis_."

"Sounds like something I'd read!" Dean hooted.

"Same."

"Ohh let's see…" Dean indicated it was a quote by authors found in the B row, "I would love to say that you make me weak in the knees, but to be quite upfront and completely truthful, you make my body forget it has knees at all.”

" _Chasers of the Light_ by Tyler Knott Gregson."

For some reason, it got a bit awkward despite their laughter, but Dean cleared his throat and Cas moved on to his turn.

 _"_ To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness"-Oscar Wilde

Cas saw immediately that the quote tripped him up. "I'll give you a hint. He wasn't straight."

Whispering out a, "Wilde." Dean clenched his jaw, as if shutting part of himself down. 

Cas wondered, had he said something? He never found out. The bell rang, and Dean quietly issued a swift "bye."

A few hours later, Cas slogged through his homework with a throbbing cheek, despite more ice and the maximum dose of Aspirin. 

Jody had made her famous roast chicken for dinner, but Cas moved more around on his plate than he ate. 

"Does it hurt to chew?"she asked with concern.

"Not really. Sorry. Just have a lot on my mind."

"Anything I could help with?"

"Any idea what attacked Emma this morning? How's she doing?"

Jody's face fell. "The doctors say there's a lot of swelling in her brain. But let's not worry anyone at school until we know more, alright?"

"Sure, but what was it? The girls were scared. _Really_ scared."

"Emma's not able to talk. Lisa was calm, until asked for specifics. The other girls’ descriptions were the same. Room went cold, a black mass with eyes," Jody held her hands over her dinner plate as if suddenly gifted a talking platypus, "slammed Emma into the wall, then onto the floor. Any rumors like this before?" 

Cas suddenly possessed more interest. "No. You think it was a ghost?"

"I have no thinks right now," she genuinely admitted. 

"What are they renovating anyways? And why now, instead of summer?"

"Miss Naomi says behind the locker rooms is the old woodshop. There'd been a sudden cave-in years ago, it was quickly walled up to prevent injury. School board decided to expand the locker rooms to accommodate the growing student body."

He had no clue what to make of the day’s weird happenstances. Dean's change in demeanor was no less confusing. The guy acted like he'd blown chunks in his cheerios. 

Craving a distraction, he resumed his Catcher piece after dinner. Something felt off center, yet he couldn't put his finger on it, even after several changes with light reference angles. 

It was times like these, he wished Eileen's parents weren't so antiquated and let her have a cell phone. He'd pick her brain about Dean's shift in behavior.

By eleven pm, Cas was tearing up in frustration, unable to portray the sibling scene the way he saw it in his head. He'd highlighted every physical description of them in the book, and reviewed them multiple times. 

Swiping Clarence from his nightstand, he twisted his fluffy purple mane between his fingers while channeling Meg. Listening to the _Lilo & Stitch _ soundtrack, he allowed fate and her muse to direct his pencil into a different drawing. One where it wasn’t Holden and Phoebe talking, but he and Meg.

When he began to see the shapes and lines making sense on the page, he realized he’d enjoyed drawing the scene. It felt like drawing _home_. 

Once the preliminary sketch was complete and notes were made, he was on a roll and drew a different scene. This one he felt even better getting out of his system, even though its secrecy in nature hadn't actually left his lips. Right before his eyes, rested a rough charcoal version of himself, completely lost in a kiss with Dean Winchester. 

Deep down, a precocious longing stirred from within for his hand to lace with Dean’s, to hug him simply because it felt good. Maybe even share a soft kiss. Cas wrapped himself in those feelings, allowing the intensity of his crush to take anchor. 

The drawing brought him unexpected joy and inspiration. Sleepy though he was, and grateful the next day was Saturday, Cas penned a few art notes before turning in. Pleased he'd trusted in Clarence and Winona Judd, he considered the projects with renewed motivation. 

Heartbreak be damned. He was going to nail this Catcher piece and submit it to the Congressional Art Scholarship contest. As for the other piece, each draft he completed would be a smoother confession than the last. An easier coming out, at least to himself. 

For now, that was good enough.

  
  


**☆☆☆☆☆**

That night, Dean's sleep proved fitful. The dream was one which had stalked his nights countless times. 

Sammy's quivering wails hurt Dean's ears while he tightly held his infant brother, twisting in his arms, on the front lawn by the curb. They both coughed from the billowing smoke escaping from the windows. He shouted to Mary they were safe, that he'd taken Sammy and to please, _please_ come outside. 

The desperate screams of Mary calling to him, the chilling sounds of her pain as she burned while searching for her children, relentlessly haunted him. 

John had been deployed when the fire destroyed their home. Their family. What he didn't know was that it was Dean's fault. When he'd awakened from smoke filling his room, and burned his hand opening the door, he remembered the Stop, Drop, and Roll game the fireman had taught them in preschool. 

But his baby brother couldn't roll fast enough. Dean _had_ to get him. Surely Mary waited for them outside? So he'd tugged up his pajama sleeve, opened the nursery, and took Sammy outside. 

The smoky night obscured his vision. He expected his mom to be in the front yard. The fireman had said, "Meet your family away from the house." But Mary wasn't there. 

When realizing she was inside, still looking for them, he froze. Crying and gagging, the words wouldn't come. The smoke stole them from his throat, she couldn't hear him calling.

It was his fault she'd died. His fault John was sick with grief when returning home a few days later. His fault Sammy grew up without a mom. 

Dean could never bring himself to confess his guilt to them. But he tried every single day to be helpful, taking care of Sam so his dad wouldn't be exhausted and could focus on work. Raising and loving Sam like he thought Mary might. If he hadn't gotten her killed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor bean...do we think he'll ever share this terrible secret he lives with? Do we think Cas will reclaim the courage to confess his crush?
> 
> "If plan KTB (kill the bastard) didn't work, well, Gray would resort to Plan B: Operation Oh Sh**"-Gena Showalter, Jewel of Atlantis
> 
> "I would love to say that you make me weak in the knees, but to be quite upfront and completely truthful, you make my body forget it has knees at all.”- Chasers of the Light, Tyler Knott Gregson
> 
> "To lose one parent may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness"-Oscar Wilde


	4. Chapter 4

A few weeks into the school year, morning temperatures began to fall, making way for the delightful crisp in the air whispering promises of beautiful foliage and harvest moons. 

Sitting at their favorite bench, he and Eileen were enjoying some feel-good soul by the late, great Sam Cooke. 

She'd read many of his song lyrics which resonated in her heart, and Cas had developed the adorable habit of 'singing' to her via sign language. They'd 'sung' their favs together so often, their timing fell in perfect sync and for a little while, their worldly cares vanished, leaving nothing but the joyful companionship between them. 

His mood went from goofy to exuberant as his hands easily signed, swishing and swerving this way and that. He smiled at Eileen, who now amusedly watched him walking backwards down the school's path towards its entrance. 

Cas's foot slipped, his feet left the ground, and his form flung backwards into another person's backpack. In the collateral damage, the forward-walking person tipped backwards as their packs snagged together. 

Feeling the other student lurch forward in the opposite direction at the same time he did, they both let out an "Oof!"

Later, Cas would review this moment on repeat over and over. One, to ponder how his iPod ended up on the trajectory it did. Two, because he wasn't sure if he'd die more from embarrassment at almost lip locking with Dean Winchester, or that he hadn't. But for now, his full attention was on not dropping and breaking his iPod.

The earbud cord pulled out of the port, loudly serenading Dean with the chorus of Queen's _Somebody to Love_. When Cas twisted around, the disconnected iPod whizzed over his left shoulder. His hands flew up so swiftly, he couldn't see the device caught below his line of sight by Dean. The second he locked onto it, his brain sent his hand out for retrieval, grasping Dean's along with it. 

Its warmth was soothing on a chilly fall day. Yet also short lived, because mere millimetres away from soft, plump looking lips, Cas felt Dean's hot breath against his own. The scent of apple pie was so delicious, it was almost impossible _not_ to steal a taste. Hell, he wanted to _so bad._

Eileen's giggle snapped him back to reality. _What am I doing?!_

"Uh..uhm..shi- sorry!" Cas untangled them by some miracle while his cheeks ignited with extreme embarrassment. 

"Cas? Cas! Hey wait! I wanna talk to-"

But he couldn't stick around to hear what Dean wanted to say because he was drowning in mortification. And where had Eileen suddenly gone? Way to leave a guy hanging! 

He'd darted over the hedge, knocking over the garbage can after deciding against crawling into it with intent to die, and shot around the west corner of the academy to collect himself. 

Cas had been so focused on putting distance between himself and the clusterfuck behind him, he actually screamed in fright when seeing Eileen. She was furiously trying to help a junior whom Cas watched struggle and choke, suspended by something high up within the tree branches. The second he saw what held his classmate, the guy was released like a rag doll. 

Running to help the guy, Tyler, it looked like the entity fired a cannon ball of ice down his throat, stealing his breath away. Cas could feel its anger, malice, and even heartbreak rippling off of the kid. Its distinctly feminine eyes burned at him with a wrath so fierce, Cas feared for his life.

**☆☆☆☆☆**

How'd he and Cas become entangled? His heart raced just thinking about it. Had those blue eyes been dilated in fear? A crush? He didn't know, but they'd been so close Dean thought for a split second he wanted to kiss him? And if he was being honest with himself, he wouldn't have minded one bit. 

But no matter what the guy felt in the moment, he'd completely freaked out. Dean wasn't sure how to take it. Sure it was awkward, but seriously? Shit happened. 

They'd needed to talk about something and it'd been a good time to distract from the embarrassment of the situation. 

Dean couldn't help wrapping himself up in the memory of his hand firmly held in Cas's, his face close enough to rub noses and snuggle with. Damn. It'd been a while since he'd had a boyfriend, and he really wouldn't mind falling for someone again.

As soon as the bell rang, he caught Sam lurking and knew something was up.

"You alright? I got the doctor to sign off on carrying your prescription with you."

"Yeah, but we need to talk. I was in the computer lab, and felt it." 

"Felt what?"

"The _thing_. It came back. Got another kid, almost got Castiel too."

"Is Cas okay?" Dean worried.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, he was alright."

"What else did you see?"

"He was on the ground next to the guy, probably checking for signs of life and the thing was gonna attack again. Then the Headmistress came up and started talking, having a conversation with _it._ _Her_. Whatever. She was afraid. I should try talking to-"

"Were they taken to the hospital?"

"Ambulance was still out there when I left. You talk to Castiel yet?" Sam wondered.

"Tried this morning. Got kinda caught up and— anyways. _You_ need to talk to Eileen."

Sam rolled his eyes in exasperation. "My ASL isn't proficient enough yet.”

" _Dude._ " Dean threw a _'really'?_ look his way.

"It's gotta be handled a certain way, alright?" Sam exhaled slowly. "And respectfully."

"Well, yeah. But—" Dean recognized that look. The same look had been on his brother's face since school had started, when Mr. Nice and Tall began running through his mind.

"Sam, are you kidding me? She's—"

Sammy butted in with, "And four years older than me. Just… lemme handle it alright? It's confusing having a crush on two people at once."

Lifting his hands in supplication, Dean backed away towards his next class. "Fair enough. You're definitely dealing with unchartered territory."

**☆☆☆☆☆**

What had the Headmistress been up to? Cas tried to hear what she'd been saying to it, but a headache had come on so fast and hard, it completely threw him off guard. When the ambulance arrived he'd waved off attempts to get checked out. It was just a headache for crying out loud. But one bad enough he went home for the day, and pretty much it slept off.

Cas felt grateful for food when Jody heated up some leftovers. She hadn't prodded, yet he knew she must've hung her sheriff's hat up and wanted to know as a mom, what he'd seen and heard. 

"I can't explain it. You won't believe me, Mom."

"Try me."

"No. Really."

She rested her hand gently on his leg, it felt comforting. "What you experienced matters, Castiel. The tiniest, most unbelievable things can crack a case. Especially if it reveals a pattern."

"I saw a face in the black mass. It was darker than the mass except for its, or her eyes. It had, tentacles? That's the only thing I could compare them with. They weren't solid, just wavy extensions. Mrs. Naomi was talking to it. Can't remember what she was saying though."

Jody regarded Cas with intense speculation. He'd seen the whole range of faces from good sheriff to bad sheriff, and knew he wasn't under suspicion. She let it go, for the time being. Cas was grateful she didn’t prod, and appreciated that his mom believed him, even if he barely believed himself.

**☆☆☆☆☆**

When Dean sleepily stumbled down the hall for coffee on Saturday morning, he wasn't surprised to see Sam staring intensely at the computer screen. The kid was a grade A nerd.

"Whatcha up to Sam?" 

"Sifting through the Beaufort Gazette archives."

"Pfft! Over Saturday morning cartoons? C'mon, Scooby's on!" 

Sam sighed, "I am the real life Scooby."

Dean couldn't argue there. Nor was he displeased to find plenty of Lucky Charms in the cupboard, aka-Scooby snacks. 

"Any clues pop in this mystery?" Dean asked, popping some dry charms in his mouth before filling his bowl with milk. 

"Which mystery?" John interjected, yawning and pawing for the coffee filters.

Sam shot a quick glance at Dean, who was already boring holes in him. 

"Just curious about the local history, Dad." 

John paused with his hand still patting the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard for coffee fixings. "Regular history, or _your_ kind?" 

"Both," Sam informed, "haven't felt much activity aside from school. But it can't hurt to check, since two students have been hurt."

John silently pondered for a moment. "Sam, what exactly are you hoping to find?"

Dean observed the exchanges between his dad and brother with increasing interest. 

"Unfortunate occurrences. Sudden or violent deaths."

Dropping his head as the brew percolated, Dean knew Sam's 'hobby' utterly mystified their father.

"I really wish you'd get interested in something simple, like fishing or football."

"Dallas destroyed Miami last Thursday, if you want to watch it's on the DVR. The speckled trout and catfish are in season right now, our best bet is shallow water. But this is kind of," he made errant, funny fart sounds when pushing air out of his mouth as he searched for a way to explain his odd fascination with dead people, "a compulsion, or calling I guess."

Noticing how John shut his trap for the moment, Dean suggested aloud, "We should probably ask someone in town who's always lived here."

"Hannah and his husband have always been here. He sure seems to know plenty about everyone. I can ask on Monday."

"I haven't come up with much. Maybe ask about the crime rate, or make me out to be some oddball paranormal history enthusiast."

John playfully rolled his eyes while downing his coffee and Dean interjected, "There's no 'making you out' needed with that statement."

"Har, har." Sammy was only mildly offended. 

"We gotta fix the back fence this morning, then head to the hardware store for hedging line," Dean suggested. He was also in need of a new angle grinder, and some C clamps for welding, but elected to keep that to himself.

"Yeah, I pulled some stuff out to work on the fence last night, but I've gotta run down to the BX this afternoon. How about we try that burger joint after the yard work?"

Dean and Sam both perked up in anticipation. No Winchester in their right mind could resist a decent burger. 

"Wanna see a movie later, Sam? Maybe call Zeke?"

"Which movie?" Sam prodded with transparency. 

_Hitman's Bodyguard_. As tall as these two dorks were, Dean knew getting them into an R rated bromance comedy was a non issue.

Watching his little brother turn pink and contemplative over a boy was still new. Sam wasn't the same level of social butterfly, so it brought Dean peace when seeing him really connect with someone. 

Trekking to his room with obvious intent, Sam came back moments later holding a folded piece of paper and swiped the cordless off the kitchen counter, only to scurry back into his room, closing the door.

John shot Dean an amused grin. "Guess that's a yes."

He couldn't ignore the nagging pang of worry he felt about Castiel and how he was holding up after the attack. Time to face the music; he wanted to know Cas way better. There was a beauty and sadness to him. Dean wanted to discover what kept him so guarded. 

He found himself pleasantly daydreaming how nice it would feel having Cas tucked into his side in the theater, resting his head upon his shoulder, sharing popcorn. 

**☆☆☆☆☆**

"I need a haircut," Cas announced while making BLTs for lunch. 

Stealing a piece of cooling bacon, Jody happily mumbled, "Mmm! Me too. I could grab a few things while we're out.” 

At the salon, Cas felt his mom's ever-observant eyes gently assessing him. He really wasn't stewing on the strange experience from school, which he presumed she was monitoring for. 

The morning’s quiet focus had resulted from the previous night's renewed inspiration, and he'd simply been lost in contemplative planning. And wishing he knew for sure if Dean was straight. He probably was. He seemed flirtatious enough with Lisa at school. 

Waiting outside for Jody to finish up, Cas leaned against the car, pressing his tummy against the rear driver’s window and set his chin on his hands, resting on the roof. The sun had retreated behind the clouds, as it tended to do in fall along the coastal Carolinas. 

He must've been really caught up in his daydreaming, because when Jody asked, "You want to head over to Coastal Art?" it startled the heck out of him. 

He knew a cheer-up bribe when he heard one. 

"Nah, I'm alright for now. Thanks." Technically not true, but he'd pillaged the academy art room on the rare occasion when really in need. It was the least Mr. Lehne could do to make up for his terror of a son, even if he didn't know it.

Jody shot him 'that look'. 

"Honest, it's okay."

Jody was not convinced. "Fine. Department sketch artists say they're down to digging for briquets. I'm sure they could use a few dozen boxes and pads."

"Funny how the surplus always makes its way home to my desk."

Jody smirked, "Only charcoal I use is for grilling."

Boulders had settled in his gut from thinking about Dean. 

"Cas?"

"Hm?"

Jody's voice suddenly had a minor increase in weight to it."You need anything, all you have to do is ask. You know that, right?" 

He assured, "Yeah Mom." 

In that moment, he wished he could. Soul weary from keeping himself hidden, and buried under guilt due to the one time he didn't, Cas's inner self cried. Not everyone was close enough with a parent to share about a high school crush. 

The kicker was, he and his mom _were_ just that close. 

But this wasn't the standard crush, and its nature was responsible for taking away her daughter. She didn't deserve losing another child, nor could he bear the thought of her disappointment in him when learning the truth. 

"Have you gone over anything difficult with Marv lately?"

Marv was someone recommended to them after they'd lost Meg and Lilith. Cas liked the guy, he was pretty chill, and not at all what he thought a therapist would be like. They still had sessions twice a month, and overall they'd helped him quite a bit. But not even Marv knew the whole truth. 

"No," he sat up in the seat to put his game face on,"everything's cool. On second thoughts, I've been wanting to try oils again. Maybe I'll check out their canvas selection too."

No way did Jody swallow that everything was copacetic. But one of the things he loved about her was how she let him quietly work things out on his own. Cas watched her painfully leave his troubles be.

He focused the day on his art scholarship, laboring to bring himself and Meg to life in the cherished scene. Cas even found time for the comfort brought by his 'daydream' piece. As he went to bed that night, he silently wished his recovering classmates well. He also felt thankful for his friendships with Sam, Zeke, and Dean. 

It'd be a lie if he said he didn't include a little recovery wish for his own hurting heart, while simultaneously wishing on a star maybe for once, he might get his very own "Love, Simon" ending to high school.

**☆☆☆☆☆**

"Spoke with Hannah today about strange deaths in town," John shared at the dinner table, "can't recall much suspicion of foul play over the last twenty years. Mostly age related deaths, illness, once in a while a few whacky accidents, but that's it."

"So, bupkis," muttered Dean, expressing Sam's frustration for him. 

Watching John tilt his head in inquiry, Dean defended, "Obviously not a bad thing, just shuts out an obvious cause to these attacks."

"All the more reason to let in someone else, more legally qualified to deal with it," John issued while staring at Sam. 

Dean explained, "Mr. Lehne's been lurking around a lot more. Not sure if that's a good thing or what." 

John surmised, "He probably doesn't want a lawsuit, and thinks being more present might prevent further attacks."

Sam interjected, "He's worried about something else, not the students. Can't figure out what, but he creeps me out. Keeps trying to talk to me in between classes. Most of the time I can slip away, but not always."

"What does he want from you?" Dean demanded.

"He just asks random stuff like who my friends are, if I have any exceptional talents."

"Does he talk to other kids like this?" John wanted to know.

"Haven't seen it if he has. He doesn't even hardly talk to Bart when he's around, just scowls at him."

John urged, "Keep an eye on it. If he doesn't let up I'll tell him I can fill in any blanks about your past, if he's so curious."

Dean quickly misdirected, noting Sam's underlying signs of discomfort. "How's Zeke doing in English?"

Like a deer in headlights, Sam's eyes grew the size of saucers. "Fi-how would I know?"

"Figured he must be failing, as often I see you two huddled together over that essay rubric."

"Zeke had trouble with his _To Kill a Mockingbird_ paper, Ms. Partain gave him another chance, so…"

Dean lovingly reaffirmed his support. "The guy's lucky he made friends with this era's Keating."

Sam wasn't going to drop the cause behind the attacks. But Dean could do some sleuthing of his own, to keep his dad's worry to a minimum. Maybe even Castiel might want to tag along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What might Dean and Cas get up to? Thoughts on Azazel's curiosity with Sam? Or why Naomi was talking to our monster?


	5. Chapter 5

The next day Cas found Mr. Crowley making himself visible on campus, pleasantly greeting students and staff. 

"Good Morning Sir, is Mrs. Naomi in her office?" Cas casually asked.

"I'm afraid not. Family emergency out west. May I help?"

"No. Thank you though."

That conversation would have to wait, obviously. He also found Mr. Ketch perusing the grounds, more in quiet observation than interaction. Cas's eyes fell upon someone directly behind the Lit Professor, and his stomach dramatically lurched. 

Azazel Lehne paused, surveying the campus like it was his own kingdom. Who he was searching for and his purpose with them was unclear, but he never ceased to give Cas the creeps. 

Making a sharp turn into the school’s entrance, he saw Dean's face light up when he recognized Cas. Surely there must be someone else behind him, someone who could rationally explain the expression Dean wore that made Cas go weak in the knees. Doing a double take, he expected to find Lisa, or anyone besides himself, yet found no one. 

He suddenly remembered that quote in Lit class, about feeling as if he had no knees at all. Cas didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until Dean actually strolled right up to _him,_ his face saturated with relief and… happiness? 

"Cas! What happened? I've gotta get your number, you worried me — everybody." Dean stumbled on the last few words. Cas barely noticed. 

"Not much. Thankfully." Thrilled the embarrassing iPod debacle had been eclipsed by his paranormal run-in, Cas's heart rate slowed so he was pretty sure only _he_ could now hear it thundering against his chest.

"Sam tried running out there, he saw some of it from the computer lab."

"What did he see?" Castiel's immediate curiosity piqued at both Dean's bewilderingly soft expression, and possibly an additional perspective.

"You can interrogate him at lunch, but uh, been meaning to ask, can I have your number?"

"Yeah, what's yours, I'll text it to you." _If I survive the hammering in my heart, that is._

He also craved a chat with Eileen. His frustration had been mounting over their limited form of communication. It would've been nice to text over the weekend about the attack.

Dean's eyes danced, and Cas caught him errantly licking his lips as if a delicious opportunity had just presented itself. Cas found it maddening, criminal even. 

Once they'd exchanged numbers, Dean appeared on the cusp of broaching another subject when Cas caught the flash of Eileen coincidentally beckoning him to join her at their bench. 

Entering an emotional tug-of-war, he frustratingly dithered between wanting to hear what else Dean had to say, and catching up with his best friend, for whom he had some burning questions. 

Reluctantly tearing himself from Dean, he apologized. "Sorry, Eileen's waving me over. She was right near the, whatever it was when—"

"Nah, there's some welding I wanna get started on anyhow. See you at lunch." 

Cas couldn't help the nagging suspicion Dean didn't want to end the conversation. He really didn't want to either. 

With a fierce look of worry, Eileen held him, standing back to assess for herself his condition.

"I'm okay. Promise." He drew out the sign for 'promise' with greater emphasis, so as to deliver maximum reassurance. "You know, I have questions. I needed my best friend this weekend. And not just to interrogate you on why the hell you were near that _thing."_

He found it odd how she flinched when he called the wavy tentacle mass, 'that thing.' But she nodded, holding back a few tears.

"I was so worried about you all weekend. Would've come over, but don't know where you live. My parents are so strict, I hate it!" She practically stomped.

Cas felt genuine concern blasting from her in waves. She really had been frightened for him. "Can't you give me your address? Maybe we can just sit on the front porch and talk, without the interruptions of school."

Eileen nodded and gave him her address. "Most nights we're at church, but you can come over after school. If my parents say alright. You're gonna need my help with midterm exams soon."

"Yeah, wanted to see if you'd help me later today actually. But after we talk about what happened last week."

He watched her nervously sit and flatten her skirt pleats, as a first grader might, when scolded. 

"Where were you right after I bumped into Dean last week?"

"I saw something happening up in the trees, almost like the boy was climbing really high, but it looked, _wrong._ "

"That was near the back of the west wing. I didn't see it until after disentangling from Dean and running over there. How did you?"

"I was further back from the building than you. The angle was different."

"Fair enough. But why were you talking to it?”

Shrugging as if it were obvious she signed, "A boy was attacked, I was trying to help."

"Did you see Mrs. Naomi after Tyler fell?"

"Yes. She was trying to help too."

"By reasoning with it?"

"Ask her! She wasn't using sign. I've no idea what she was saying!"

"Alright. Sorry. Just trying to figure out what happened to me and Tyler."

"I don't want anyone else hurt either. This needs to stop. I wish I…"

"What?"

"I wish I knew _how._ "

A few awkward seconds passed between them.

"You like Dean, don't you?" Eileen calmly asked with a knowing smile. 

Immediate panic surged inside him. "He and Sam both, yeah. They're really nice."

He was unsure as to her motives behind the question, yet he felt relief at being able to call them both friends, if for no other reason than to throw her off the scent of his disaster crush.

**☆☆☆☆☆**

Dean's morning was smooth as silk. His welding project was coming along nicely, using both arc and tig methods for deeper welds. Cas was back at school, and he'd managed to grab his digits. So sue him if he felt like walking on sunshine. 

Trigonometry would be over shortly and then he, Sam, Cas, and friends could hang at lunch. Overall, his mood was positively delightful. Until an office T.A. brought in a note for the teacher, who nonchalantly announced, "Winchester. You're needed in the office."

There was an immediate tension in the air when the clerk urgently pointed him to the health office. Dean rounded the corner in less than a second, and saw a petite man in a candy scrub top and jeans removing a blood pressure cuff from his brother's arm. 

"Sam," Dean whispered and turned off the light. "Please don't touch him, he's really sensitive to touch during migraines."

His heart broke for his brother, who was rocking himself and shaking uncontrollably. Dean heard his whimpers of pain as he tried to be brave, but was losing all strength and composure by the second. 

"How long has he been like this?"

The man pulled a lollipop from his mouth, setting it down silently on a napkin at his desk. "Came in forty minutes ago, said he had a prescription for Imitrex on file. I gave it to him, but his pain level has worsened. Blood pressure and heart rate too."

Sam trembled all over, he raised his head to speak, but the only words falling from his mouth were, "Made..red, no! Mmmay..hint..table, fast..umfff!"

His eyes widened in confusion and the nurse grabbed the cuff again, hitting the electronic 'START'.

Dean kneeled by Sam, who still rocked himself despite his best effort to stay still. His eyes were completely bloodshot and imploring Dean to do something. _Anything_.

"Has he been under significant stress lately?"

Dean shook his head. He wasn't telling a medical professional his brother was psychic. He needed a neurologist, not a padded room. 

"I'd feel much better if he was seen at the base hospital." The kind nurse was scribbling a few things down on a notepad while doling out the instructions to Dean. 

He assured his brother, "Be right back, Sammy. Promise."

His heart hammered against his chest as he ran to find John. The fear of losing Sam had him breathing so hard his lungs burned when asking the foreman for his dad. But he and Hannah were at another site. 

Being young and extremely worried, Dean made the executive decision to drive Sam himself.

"I'm eighteen and secondary on all medical. You can check, but I'm taking him." He fully expected resistance, but thankfully found none. 

Sam finally let his guard down when arriving in the tiny triage room of the ER, showing how bad of a shape he was in. Dean watched as his muscles twitched, his respirations were stilted in between sobs. Recognizing the impending abdominal roll, he slid the garbage bin over to him just in time. 

A nurse's assistant explained, "We have a bed back there ready for him, someone from transport will be collecting him soon for scans."

While they waited on a doctor, he dimmed the light in the room they'd been taken to and filled out the med forms.

A doctor came in and ran a battery of neurological tests, then Sam was taken for imaging. Dean couldn't help but recall the conversations with Sam about his possibly shortened life span. Would he be taken quickly, like a thief in the night? 

Time passed in a bubble. Eventually a patterned thudding on the linoleum snapped Dean out of his worrisome thoughts. The curtain ripped to the side with a grating metal sound from its rings that actually hurt his ears. 

"Explain," John whispered.

Dean shuddered. When John's voice was at a barely audible level, it meant a storm raged just below the surface. 

"You weren't at the school. Sam needed to come here and I've been filling out the paperwork."

"Nurse got me in one ring. One. You've been here, what? Hour and a half already?! We were just a few blocks down."

"I'm sorry—"

"Did you think I wouldn't text you with updates? Or fail to call if you needed to get here fast?"

"No, I didn't know how bad it was. He wasn't speaking right, Dad. It reminded me of a stroke or something! The nurse said he should come here and I couldn't find you. I'm sorry."

Something flashed in John's eyes and he swallowed hard, then nodded as if making an unsettling connection. Dean grew uncomfortable with the pain which now spread across his father's face. 

"I didn't want to wait for an ambulance when we'd make it in a third of the time with me driving."

"You didn't want to wait for me either. I had to hear from the school my son was rushed to the hospital. Thank God _they_ called or I might be having lunch now, none the wiser!"

"Mr. Winchester?" A stout woman in a white physician's coat addressed them both, initially unsure who to direct her next comments to.

It didn't help that he and John both answered "yes" out of habit. His dad's head dipped in silent defeat, but he offered the doctor his hand. 

"I'm Dr. Gershaw. Sam will be back shortly, we already have a few images which we're relieved to report look good so far."

"He had trouble speaking earlier, isn't that a dangerous sign?"

"Depending on what's going on, it can be. But migraines can have a variety of manifestations, even from one incident to the next. You're absolutely right to bring him in. The pain he's experiencing has caused the high blood pressure which naturally concerns us if difficulty with speech occurs. But sometimes it indicates pressure and/or swelling in the brain from the migraine itself. Thankfully it doesn't typically induce anything life threatening, but it'll sure scare the shit out of you."

"How long until the imaging is finished?"

"Another twenty minutes. Do either of you have any questions?"

Both shook their heads. Dean was fixated on Sam's brain possibly swelling. _Consequences of being a physical medium involved taking on the damage of those they've touched._ He wondered if this was part of Emma's damage, or Tyler's. Or both, since each were hospitalized with head trauma from these attacks. 

Everything came back normal. The doctors prescribed him a low dose of blood pressure medication to begin, along with Motrin until the migraine subsided. With quiet reluctance, Dean let Sam ride home with John. 

At home, after Sam passed out cold for the night, John sat at the table in silent contemplation. 

"I moved us here so you both would have plenty of opportunities with education and careers. But what I can't wrap my head around is why you sacrifice so much for Sam. My mind's at ease knowing you two are so close. Sometimes thick as thieves. But if I _had_ to work two full time jobs to put food on the table, it'd still be no excuse for you to parent him and turn down chances to be a kid while there's time."

Dean knew so well this is what John wanted for him.

"But we're not in that situation, and yet you insist on claiming that responsibility. What woulda happened today if this had been the worst case scenario, Dean? And I never got a chance to say goodbye, huh?"

His father's unspoken words were a waterfall of heartbroken tears soaking into his very soul. " _I already lost half of my heart when your Mom died. I never got to say goodbye. Today I could've lost a son and another goodbye."_

All the more reason to keep helping. And never tell why. 

Dean understood John awaited a response. Out of the rolodex of potential explanations spinning around in his head, not one came to mind that wouldn't open the can of worms that by now were saturated in botulism and guilt. Unable to provide a satisfactory answer, he went with maddening silence. 

"You don't want to get out more, meet people here or put down roots, fine. You'd rather keep your money squirreled away, than go with friends to an arcade or a date, good for you. But under this roof, Sam is _my_ responsibility, and you _will not_ jeopardize your grades for him. We clear?"

Frustration bubbled and burned in Dean's gut. His dad was confused and hurt. Having left John in the dark for years as to _why,_ he thoroughly empathized with the simmering anger now aimed at him. Still, it was nothing compared with the months of lifelessness he recalled so well in John's eyes after that horrible night. 

"Yeah, we're clear. I'm sorry," he almost cried, heading out for a drive to clear his head.

Losing his mom had most certainly damaged him, Sam, and John. Guilt from having caused the loss was an ever-ravenous parasite he would host for all time, because John learning the truth was another parental loss he couldn't bear. 

Roaming the town until dark, he eventually made his way to the well-maintained cemetery. Any average teen would've kept driving. Not him. 

The military had taken them many places over the years, but the certainty of death and taxes ensured the presence of restful marble orchards everywhere. It was in such restful places that Dean found a sliver of peace and solitude over past horrors. Choosing a spot, he'd pretend it was her resting place, and talk. Even in his silence, he felt cradled by her spirit. 

Tucking the hood of his jacket tightly around himself, Dean meandered the lovely boneyard for a time. Among the rows of tombstones he spotted one near a tree line, set a bit farther apart than the others. Gut instinct called him over to it. 

Taking care to avoid the engraved name, he preferred to not involve the soul who actually rested there. "Hey Mom. Missed you. We're in South Carolina now. It's nice, mostly."

The wind gently rustled through the trees, as if waving back to her visitor.

"Sam's grades are real good, mine too. Been working on something for you in welding class."

The wind quieted, as if stilling to listen. 

"Sammy's growing like a weed. Has a couple of crushes already. One of them seems to like him just as much. I've got some nice friends too. Lisa's funny. Cas is… there's something about him. He hurts over something, but seems to hurt less when we talk at school."

Feeling a few drops of rain against his cheek, Dean wiped them away and kept going. 

"I hope we can hang out soon. He's pretty perceptive of everyone. It scares me because I like him so much, but if he knew—"

Dean's breath hitched at the same time a robust coastal breeze rolled in. 

"Dad and I fought today, I'm sorry. Living with this secret's a mess. It should stay deep down. I don't ever want to let it out, and Dad doesn't get why I'm helping."

More speckles of rain kissed his cheeks with a gust of wind, like a hand wiping his tears. 

"How can I tell Dad he's not a failure without telling him the whole truth? Not ready for that. There's no forgiving what happened. I'm doing my best to give them all of me."

The wind began whipping back and forth, as if his admission deeply riled it. 

"Just don't know how to do that and not want someone for me too."

A sound in another part of the cemetery garnered Dean's attention. Through the tree line, footfall alerted him of visitors approaching. Zipping behind a large oak to conceal himself, he risked a peek at who else was perusing a boneyard in the rain, past sundown. 

Stampeding in Dean's chest like a wild mustang was his heart; he witnessed Cas and his mom carrying large bouquets of flowers. The profound reverence shown when arranging the blue and pink hibiscus upon the smooth stone was reminiscent of sacred ceremonies from the South Pacific. 

He watched them bow their heads, honoring someone dearly loved. After sometime, Dean heard a beautiful, yet melancholy song he couldn't quite place. 

_"Aloha ʻoe, aloha ʻoe_

_E ke onaona noho i ka lipo_

_A hoʻi aʻe au_

_Until we meet again"_

The song was stunning in its effect and left Dean breathless, as it mirrored emotions in his own heart. Deep love and loss. Hope of someday moving forward. Sorrowful recognition that this day had not yet come to pass.

When they departed from view, Dean experienced a startling recollection from his first visit there, weeks earlier. Images of someone silently trekking in the moisture saturated darkness flickered like static shock in his mind. A touch of destiny had charged a moment shared by two listing vessels passing in the night. _That someone had been Cas._ Dean knew it in his soul, as he knew his own name.

He tiptoed over to the sacred space where respects had just been paid. The hibiscus draped across the smooth marble hadn't covered the name curiosity had called him to read.

~ _Megan M. Mills~_

_Ohana Forever_

_October 3, 2000-January 17, 2017_

This girl was close in age to him and Cas. Today was her birthday. Could she have been his sister? The thought of losing Sam in high school made him physically ill. On his way home he thought it'd felt like Cas had been holding onto something. Whomever this girl was, he sincerely hoped he'd learn more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Cas ever open up? Will Dean? Or will they remain stubborn forever?
> 
> "Aloha ʻoe, aloha ʻoe
> 
> E ke onaona noho i ka lipo
> 
> A hoʻi aʻe au
> 
> Until we meet again"
> 
> (Farewell to thee, farewell to thee
> 
> The charming one who dwells in the shaded Bowers
> 
> One fond embrace, ere I depart
> 
> Until we meet again)-Aloha Oe, Hawaiian cultural song


	6. Chapter 6

"How ya feeling?" Jody lovingly inquired, heading home from the cemetery.

Shrugging, he was unsure what to say. "I still miss her."

While filled with mutual empathy, Jody's assurance of, "We always will," did little to soothe the aching crater in his heart. 

From that fateful night on, it remained the defining road block in his life, since Cas's confession had set off the chain of events that took her from them. 

"Things with Marv going alright?"

Cas and Marv had been at a stalemate with his progress for some time. Jody only knew the particulars of what was legally permissible for Marv to share. He'd never out him to Jody, but she'd question the surge in sessions if he suddenly went full confessional.

Cas knew he hadn't been behind the wheel of that truck. But him coming out to Meg was the reason she'd fled in the first place. So it was still his fault.

He refused to bring Jody further heartbreak by revealing he was both gay and the reason they now celebrated Meg's birthday with flowers at her grave, rather than the light of candles dancing upon her face, smiling in delicious anticipation of her pineapple upside down cake.

"As good as they can go. How are you?" he deflected, as they rolled to a stop at an intersection.

With sincerity she looked him in the eye and held his chin. "I'm a sad mom, but thankful for a wonderful son."

"That sounds… realistic," he offered. 

Realistic. But in no way fair. She had no idea how unfair, nor how wrong her assumption was about having a wonderful son. 

The sniffles traveling from his mom's room later that night, which she tried muffling under her pillows, were proof of how selfish he was. She deserved one living, mentally sound, undamaged, and non-disappointing child. Cas was doing his best to deliver. 

Although Dean made it awfully hard with the way he looked and spoke to him sometimes. Cas's heart wanted to be free. But he also knew Jody deserved peace. The only way he knew to ensure that was to keep his feelings about Dean a secret. They belonged in his dreams and nothing more. 

Dean would probably bolt for the next state over anyways, if he learned how Cas truly felt. He'd keep his burning heart on a low simmer, grateful for the friendship they shared. So in his self imposed prison, a ramshackle home with a view, he'd stay. Because Jody deserved better. And so did Dean.

A Halloween Homecoming dance was announced the next day, triggering the student body into elevating excitement. And Eileen suddenly steered her laser focus directly onto Dean and himself, exclusively. If she wasn't otherwise tinkering with the highly fascinating technology called his cell phone. She loved capturing the antics shared by their group of friends, except when attempting pics of solely him and Dean.

He sensed her rise in preoccupation with them building, which caused an irritation in him that was directly proportional to it. He knew it shouldn't rile him so much. For in truth, he'd have sold his soul for a trustworthy someone to confide in. And yet, as was the case for the last two years, he found himself unable to put faith and hope in anyone regarding romantic discussions of the heart. 

His sister wasn't even slightly religious or judgemental, and look how she'd reacted to the news. So how could he possibly expect Eileen of all people, with her particular upbringing no less, not to whip out her recently sharpened and Jesus-blessed pitchfork? 

"Have you changed your mind about going to Homecoming?" she'd asked before school one morning.

"Nope," was his short reply as he moved into sign-singing _Bohemian Rhapsody_. 

At lunch, she gently pestered Kevin with who he'd be asking. The beet red Advanced Placement nerd apprehensively replied, "Still gathering the nerve to ask her… them… hey Zeke, Sam said yet when he'd be back?"

Zeke dejectedly shook his head. It was clear to Cas that Zeke really missed Sam. He and Kevin headed for the snack bar, leaving Cas open for Eileen's well-intended interrogations.

"Dean's not taking Lisa. Boys go stag together, maybe you guys cou-"

Cas snapped, despite his insides screaming at him not to. "I don't get it. What's _so_ interesting about Dean and I?"

His reaction brought her up short. However, she wasn't backing down. 

"You don't hold back with me. You're completely yourself when it's just the two of us. With Dean, it's like a game of one-man tug-of-war. I don't like the way it makes you feel whenever he and Sam are around."

"So, Sam and Dean are a problem? My friendship with them is bad for me?" 

She signed a resolute "NO."

Shrugging in supplication, he demanded, "Then what?!"

Her mood softened while conveying a genuine sentiment. "I like who you are around me. Your guard is down and relaxed. I like who you _want_ to be around them, Dean more than Sam. Maybe if you'd tell me how you feel, I could help you move on, have something _different._ "

"Want me to share how I feel? Fine. Ever since we met you've wanted to do things your parents refuse to let you do, but you never question or fight for it. Things even 'appropriate' Christian girls do. Like joining the Science or Key Clubs, listening to really good music without cuss words. And taking phone calls from friends with zero interest in drinking, drugs, and any other kind of unholy crap."

He knew he'd gone off the rails. Although the hurt and defiance in her demeanor was clear, she let him unload.

"Been seeing someone for two years about how I _feel._ I'm nowhere near where I need to be. But at least I'm _doing_ something, _trying_ to improve. You've never even introduced me to your parents. Never let me show them I'm a good enough friend for you. That _feels_ like you don't consider our friendship worth fighting for."

Fueled by fear and frustration, Cas watched Eileen take in his bottled fury. He thought he was done, but he regretfully allowed the onslaught of emotional turmoil to get the better of him.

"And FYI-you should rebel and experience something 'different' yourself, before putting in your two cents about me and Dean."

Heartbreak. Loss. Devastation. Anger. Every one of these shone through Eileen, and echoed within Cas to the rhythm of his painfully pounding heart. By the time he could take it back and apologize, she'd gotten up and disappeared. Why'd he been such a dick? 

Alright, he was terrified of coming out. It hadn't exactly yielded favorable results the last time he tried. However, Eileen hadn't done anything to earn his ire. Employing her observational skills with breathtaking accuracy and discretion when discussing them was a blessing, not an attack. Once again, he'd jumped the gun. Unfortunately, she'd been the mark. The closest, most cherished friend he'd had since Meg. 

A cacophony of screams pierced his ears, crashing his pity party, coming from the other side of the lunch courtyard. Near the snack bar, the cause of terror was floating ominously. A blurry vision of dark tentacles striking at students had Cas's stomach lurching in trepidation. 

The view of a brave Zeke taking hit after hit, while ferociously attempting to pull Kevin loose, was a match to a wick inside Cas. 

The second one tentacle thing was torn off of Kevin's throat, another took its place. Poor Kevin turned from blue to dull grey, and his arms now hung lifeless.

Channeling the residual anger he'd wrongfully directed at Eileen, he stared down the horrifying entity with hellfire in his eyes. 

"I don't know _who_ you are, but I'll end you if he dies. If you were ever a person, _human_ , then stop!"

A ripple in whatever unnatural power it exuded… Cas felt it. The grip on Kevin's neck released by an infinitesimal amount. 

"That's it, isn't it?" 

The appendage holding Kevin loosened and Cas felt a wall dropping within the entity. A river of sadness burst from the dam within. 

"I know what deep hurt feels like," Cas whispered. 

Students all around him gasped, unable to understand what was unfolding before their eyes. He wasn't even sure.

The infernal coals burning at him softened briefly, and for a split second Cas found a flash of familiarity, before they locked on to something else behind him. Its mouth opened so impossibly wide, its eyes disappeared entirely. Cas was certain he'd be swallowed or have his head bitten off. 

Instead, an energy wave backed by a hurricane force blew into his face, blasting everyone behind him to the ground. It accompanied an abysmal tone, vibrating through every bone in Cas's body with incredible power. The rage this once-upon-a-time person directed behind him emanated with incalculable strength.

Searching for the source of the unleashed rage, he registered a multitude of students, and one Azazel Lehne pulling himself up from the ground. The man looked rattled, yet not nearly as much as he should have. 

"Kevin...oh crap… dude! Kevin...Kevin!" 

Shouting from Zeke pulled Cas's attention back to their friend. Kevin's pallor resembled aged charcoal, aside from a nightmarish necklace of grayish blue bruises wrapped around his throat. 

A frantic Professor Ketch yelled, "Everyone back! Get back and don't touch him!" 

Cas found himself so drained he was unable to conjure the energy to crawl beside Kevin and search for his vitals. 

Only hours later, while sitting in the ER waiting room witnessing his Mom's frightened face meandering into his field of vision, did he snap out of the weird bubble. 

Cas panicked, "Is Kevin dead mom? Please tell me he's not dead." 

"The doctors are doing everything they can, but his hyoid is fractured."

Attempting to recall what a hyoid even was he mouthed, "Hyod.hod..hi oieed?"

"It breaks during strangulation. Very few people survive. I don't understand any of this." Jody was close to tears.

"Right before it screamed, it— they saw Lehne behind me and lost their marbles."

"What makes you think _he_ caused it to react like that?" 

Cas was growing more certain he'd witnessed a direct cause-effect scenario between Azazel and whoever was haunting the school. 

"He was looking right at it. No shock. No fear. Felt like contempt. Pretty messed up, given everyone else was screaming and running."

She was so overwhelmed. "It is. I don't have a clue where to start unraveling this mystery."

Cas suddenly remembered, "How's Zeke?"

"Sam's buddy? Looks like he went a few rounds with Urijah Faber, but he'll be alright."

Cas knew there was nothing he could do for Kevin. He was glad Zeke was alright. And devastated at the damage he'd done to his friendship with Eileen. All he could hope for was the chance to set things right with her. Maybe the rest might follow. 

**☆☆☆☆☆**

The next morning brought no updates from Mrs. Tran about Kevin. Just before heading to first period he spotted a pair of Winchesters walking in his direction. Dean absolutely _did not_ have to light up like the sun breaking through the clouds when making solid eye contact with him. It slayed him how someone that beautiful appeared so delighted to see _him._ It was the most painful miracle Cas had ever known. 

"H-hello Dean… Sam."

"Hey Cas," Dean whispered with a strange shyness.

"Everything okay?" It occurred to him Dean and Sam didn't know what had happened. He hadn't seen them at school the previous day. "There was another attack yesterday, at lunch. Pretty sure it's a person. It attacked Kevin and Zeke."

As Cas expected, Sam's immediate concern hit hard, he began frantically looking around the hall for him. 

"He was discharged last night, took some hits, but nothing that'll keep him down for long."

Dean cut in with, "And Kevin?" 

He must've seen Cas's demeanor fall. His hand shot out and rested on Cas's shoulder.

"His neck's broken. I've never seen anyone look the way he did. Zeke and I tried to stop them."

"Is Eileen around? She okay?" Sam wondered.

"I haven't seen her this morning, she wasn't around the courtyard when it happened." Which was no lie, he just wasn't in the mood to admit his screw up.

Stepping into the hallway of students, lockers, and noise, they all spotted a slow-moving Zeke coming towards them. The poor freshman was sporting two shiners, and the lobe of one ear was still swollen, as well as his left cheek. 

Cas had a tingly sensation in his tummy when he witnessed Sam take off in a full run, but stop just before mowing Zeke over with a hug. Instead, he paused to assess, then gingerly wrapped his arms around the guy. 

Dean observed them lingering in the middle of the hallway, still in full hug mode. Cas surmised he might be seeing the same thing he'd noticed for several weeks. 

There was something in the way Sam held him a little too long. How a quiet comfort and peace spread across Zeke's face when completely relaxing into the hug. The two boys seemed utterly gone for each other, and relieved the other was well. He didn't miss the way Mr. Lehne observed them in pure disdain as he passed by.

Risking a glance at Dean to check his reaction, Cas saw a pleasant, knowing smirk as if he possessed a happy secret. Could Sam be gay, and Dean knew? He was reeling at the idea that Sam might've shared that with his brother. And if his little smile meant he was cool with that, then… Cas couldn't be happier for Sam and thrilled Dean was accepting of it. 

Someone else must have noticed the scene and made a snide comment, because Cas saw Sam's right middle finger flipping someone off while his left arm simultaneously gripping Zeke was _not_ letting go. 

Dean shrugged, pleasantly laughing it off with, "Guess he really missed him. _Aaaanyway_ , walk me to welding?"

The heart within his chest leapt for joy. "Sure."

Cas gladly tagged along, curious as to what he wanted to talk about. 

"Your mom getting anywhere near solving what this thing is?"

"No, she's getting pretty worried. I'm about ready to pull an _X Files_ and canvass the neighborhood for witnesses."

Dean raised an intrigued eyebrow. "I could be the Scully to your Mulder, if ya want."

Cas thought his heart had launched to the moon. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Sam's migraines are bad. He's… sensitive. Whatever's going on is affecting him. The sooner this ends, the better. We haven't hung out much, wanna hit Ménage for dinner tomorrow night, then head out after?" 

The 'yes' Cas gave in reply garnered Dean's most shining smile to date. He had to turn his back to Dean in that moment, marching right out of the welders shop. If he didn't, his matching mile-wide smile would've revealed everything. 

He was beginning to worry if Eileen would come back to school. Mulling over whether he should visit her house, Cas changed his mind, in case her parents insisted discussions take place in their presence. Listening to him grovel wouldn't support the idea that he was a stellar friend.

Turning on some _Lilo & Stitch _ tunes in his room that night for inspiration, he continued laboring over his scholarship piece until ten. Then he began another draft of his daydream sketch, which took his predicament with Eileen off his mind. 

As another, stronger-looking piece emerged, he found himself entertaining thoughts, starring Dean, which at some point had gone from "in another life…" to more solid "what ifs?" This was dangerous. Dean was surely straight, right? 

Allowing the contentment of what friendship they _did_ have to wrap around him like the blissful hug they'd shared, Cas went to sleep with his emotions carefully contained in their appropriate boxes, cautiously optimistic he could keep them there, enjoying his "as good as it's gonna get" scenario. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do we think about our monster now? Any theories? Will Sam have any easier time making any relevant confessions?


	7. Chapter 7

Cas's alarm awakened him from an unsettling dream. Eileen had been standing at the school entrance in the dark, peering at him, silent as the grave. Behind her, stood Mr. Lehne, severe and menacing. Seconds before he'd awakened, the entity terrorizing the school zoomed past Mr. Lehne, knocking him over and disappearing right before reaching Eileen. 

Frustration as to her whereabouts, combined with no Kevin updates, sunk down in his gut like the rusty anchors he'd seen in the retired vessel graveyard from the town's marina. Waiting for school to commence, he opened a new sketchpad, doodling to quell his self-deprecation.

When queuing up his iPod, the shuffle kicked out _Beautiful Loser_ by Bob Seger. Snorting to himself, he left the tune on so as to wallow, seeing as how he deserved it. 

He hadn't realized he was replicating his daydream piece, when he startled at a warm presence joining him. Before turning to greet his new bench mate, he smoothly tore the sketch out, cleverly folding it into a paper airplane to avoid prying eyes. 

"Hey Sam, feeling better?"

"Yeah, another good night's sleep completely kicked it. You?"

"More determined than ever to find this thing."

"Yeah, Dean said you're gonna ask around tonight. It's more than anyone else is doing."

"You've seen a ghost before?" Cas asked in minor surprise.

"Kind of an ongoing thing with me." Placing his hand on Cas's arm he queried,"Do you know where Eileen is?"

Cas's concern slammed back into him. "Dean mentioned that. No, haven't seen her, but I need to talk with her too."

He wondered why Sam was sporting such a distant look, but his hand suddenly snatched the paper airplane out of Cas's lap. 

"Keep quiet," Sam whispered, while placing his finger against his lips with a mischievous gleam in his eye. 

Sharp panic welled within Cas at the sight of Sam holding the paper, sneaking behind a nearby tree, while students began milling around campus. Refusing to put more distance between himself and the paper airplane, he scurried behind Sam, who awaited for someone with glee. 

Dean crossed the lawn from the parking lot towards the school's stair entrance. Sam shot out from behind Cas to his right and before he could stop him, his heart plummeted and his breath left his lungs all at once, watching the airplane take off. If it hit Dean or even caught his attention, in less than a second his heart would be out for Dean to see. 

With zero chance of catching it, he launched into a dead ass run anyway. If he wasn't 200% sure his life would end by lethal disclosure in the span of two seconds, he might've been able to compliment Sam on his throwing arm, based on the exquisite trajectory the airplane was taking. 

He saw it first dip, then loop de loop. There was a sliver of hope, but then in slow mo, as if by magic it miraculously correction-coursed back. At the pinnacle of its arc, it grazed against a few perfectly arranged strands on Dean's head. 

It didn't matter now if it had caught Dean's attention, come hell or high water he was getting that piece of paper. The plane took a few more loops. He almost had it, running like the wind behind Dean, and stretching his fingers millimeters away, it turned right back towards him. He curled the paper in his fist and landed in the dirt among the bushes lining the entrance steps. 

"Cas? Is— what're you doin' down there?"

 _Superb._ What was it with Dean and mortifying moments? Cas needed to find something, anything, to pick up from the ground besides the airplane. 

"Yah." Pawing around, he spotted a few clusters of Japanese Kerria. They snapped easily when clutching a bunch in his palm. 

"Need some help?" 

Dean's compassionate voice was laced with either humor, or confusion. Cas couldn't tell.

"Hello Dean."

There he stood, the picture of gay confidence, in front of his crush. Dirt avalanched from his shoulders, his chest heaved with effort to catch his breath, and his carefully styled hair poked out in every direction. One hand held wilted yellow flowers, and the other— an airplane with a secret, protected like Airforce One.

Dean inquired with a carefully composed face, "What were you doing?"

With believable calm Cas replied, "Taking time to smell the roses." 

He bit his lip while extending the bouquet to Dean in painful awkwardness. He watched Dean's composure crack a little, when the right corner of his mouth upturned just a tad, and he accepted them with awkwardness in equal measure.

"Cas?" Dean stepped towards him, crossing into his personal space.

Cas's heart leapt. "Yes Dean?"

"Those aren't rose bushes." 

Autocorrect! Error! "Explains the funny smell."

Dean took another step into Cas's personal space. "There's one mystery down."

Cas had no idea where this was headed, but it was one helluva ride. "And the other?"

"What's with the orange underwear?"

M'GAWD. This was a nightmare come true. There'd be no awakening in the dark, no frantically clutching his clothes to verify it'd been a dream. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to fall apart, like instinct told him to. His pants must've gotten caught on the damn bushes! How did he not notice!

"They're lucky." _Good luck proving it, Winchester._

"Have you?" Dean wondered with an adorable eyebrow raised in sincere inquisition.

"Have I what?" 

Grinning ear to ear, Dean clarified, "Gotten lucky?"

Cas maintained a stern expression, but knew damn well his cheeks were a shade of fuschia rarely achieved, even for him. Like hell would he satisfy Dean with an answer either way.

But Dean already looked satisfied, incredibly so. Even with Cas's stubborn silence.

"Thanks."

"For _what_ Dean?"

"Can't remember the last time a guy in his underwear gave me flowers. Is this a habit for you?"

Becoming more flummoxed by the second, Cas was on the verge of total gay panic at Dean's insinuation when the cherry on top of the most embarrassing morning ever, chimed in via a ringtone from his cell.

" _It's raining men, hallelujah,_

_it's raining men, amen!"_

He was gonna kill Balthazar for messing with his phone. His timing for a shift request was impeccable. Cas only stared at Dean more defiantly. Like the gayest song on the planet _wasn't_ blaring loudly from his phone, or anywhere else. While buttoning his pants, Cas heard Dean guffaw and thank him again as he walked to first period. 

So many things had just gone awry. Dean's reactions had been royally perplexing. He'd stepped in front of him, shielding him as best he could from passersby, while Cas fixed his drooping drawers. He could've been all kinds of squicked out when given flowers from a guy in his underwear. But he wasn't. 

He'd said thanks. _Twice_. 

**☆☆☆☆☆**

Positively levitating with excitement for the NOT date with Cas, Dean could barely focus on his special welding project. If they didn't have to investigate, Dean could put far more effort into getting to know Cas better. He seemed to like Dean, was maybe even crushing on him too, but something was holding the guy back. He sincerely hoped he could prove himself worthy of learning from _Cas_ , why he seemed to allow in only a portion of happiness. 

"You gonna talk to him tonight?" Sam asked later that afternoon.

Dean shot him a look that said ‘Cool it.’

"Cas knows about me. Told him this morning."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "How'd that go?"

Shrugging, Sam was straightforward. "He's open minded."

"Heard that before."

"He told the truth."

"Aw Sam, you touched him? C'mon, major invasion of privacy dude! And you're the one who made that rule in the first place!"

"I know! But… I needed to scan for some things."

"And?"

"Won't know for a few days maybe. Don't worry, I won't tell anybody what I saw. Least of all you."

"What about me? You saw something about me?!" Suddenly, Dean's interest was higher than ever.

Mischievously, Sam reminded, "I took an oath."

"Don't gimme that self righteous oath crap, spill the beans, now."

"Make me, Jerk."

"Don't tempt me bitch."

By now the convo had regressed to petty slaps and cheap shots across the seat between brothers. 

Dean teased, "Get out before I tell Dad about the hallway Hugfest from yesterday."

The eye roll from Sam called the tease out for what it was — the most unfounded threat Dean could make. John's reaction to Sam getting lovey dovey with a boy would be the same as him getting lovey dovey with a girl. _Thankfully_.

When it was time to leave, he grabbed the recently passed down leather jacket from John, and strolled past Sam, who was heavily engrossed in sports trash talk over the phone with Zeke over the latest Cowboys-Lions atrocity.

John looked up from his checkbook, and his glasses slid to the bottom of his nose while attempting to appear disinterested. 

Dean knew better, and divulged in the name of peace upon their household. "Heading out for dinner with a friend. Not sure how late I'll be."

John's curiosity won out. "A date friend, or...?"

Dean heard Sam's phone convo immediately cease and saw him look up, waiting with bated breath, with a huge grin on his face.

Throwing on the jacket, Dean tried being cool about it. "I'm spending money on myself AND someone else—"

John lifted his hands up. "Alright. Enough."

But Dean caught his father's glance across the room at Sammy, the one begging for info once he'd left. Sighing dramatically, he turned around in the entryway to address John.

"It's Cas."

"The guy that helped Sammy with Mr. Lehne's kid?"

Sammy piped up. "He's good, Dad."

Taking off his glasses to verify with a nodding Sam, John expressed in mild amusement, "Oh well, if _Sam_ approves…"

Pulling up to Cas’s house, Dean climbed out of Baby to find Cas greeting him with a nervous smile, already swiftly making his way down the front the path as if his Converse had sprouted wings. 

In the span of a millisecond Dean determined that Cas's blue and black flannel, deliciously relaxed fit jeans, and windswept hair, deserved first class chivalry and screw anybody who said otherwise. In just a few strides he was gliding across Baby's freshly turtle-shined hood. 

Feeling pretty damn impressed with himself was a short-lived high when, _Sonuvabitch!_ He'd overshot and landed in the gutter. _Is this how I die?_ _Eighteen years old and Death's tight grip raising me from mortification?_

Brushing himself off, he made a perfunctory statement to the obvious. "In my mind I saw that going differently."

"It made me feel better about my awkward catastrophes."

Dean looked up in confusion, stunned by what he saw. Inches away was Cas, grinning ear to ear with both arms raised over his head, his fingers awarding him a clear scoring of 10.

"Me landing on the curb sorta canceled out the grace," Dean muttered, while managing to finally open the door for his NOT date. 

Cas looked a little pink and flustered by the gesture, but seemed to welcome it nonetheless. "Thank you."

Walking into Ménage à Twelve, Balthazar warmly greeted them from behind the counter of the wholesome 1950's style diner. "Cassie! Dean, right? John's boy?"

Dean had been salivating for another burger delight since his first visit with John and Sam. "Yep, back for burger number two." 

"Excellent! What can I get started?"

Both gravitated towards the counter where the jovial conversation flowed like the strawberry syrup waterfalling down a classic banana float.

"Coke for me," Dean requested.

Cas chimed, "Same."

Just then, Hannah rounded the corner with a cup of coffee and a grin, plopping himself into the first booth. "You're lucky, Dean."

"How so?"

Setting down his cup, Hannah explained. "Out of all the kids at school to make friends with, you picked the best."

Cas let out a, "Psshhh, right."

Between the violent red shade his ears had suddenly turned, and Hannah looking nowhere close to hitting the praise brakes anytime soon, Dean grabbed a swig of one of the cokes Balthazar set down for them, and settled in for some juicy info.

Hannah began, "Well look who his mom is. She's raised him right. This kid's an amazing artist, you seen his stuff?"

Now it was Dean's turn to be a little shy. "No, I've been dying to, but didn't want to put him on the spot or disrupt his process."

A wide-eyed glare turned in his direction as the rest of Cas swiveled on the stool towards him.

"You're kinda private in some ways, was just trying to respect your craft."

Balthazar elucidated, "Most of the murals in the children's receiving home were created by our Cassie here. Youngest artist ever to be commissioned by the county."

He felt like crap for not knowing this stuff. But Cas wasn't the sort to toot his own horn, which was one of the reasons he liked him. "I'd really love to see that some day."

Finally turning around with a crimson face, Cas was uncomfortable with compliments. 

"It's on my computer, you should come over sometime."

Cas immediately decided it was a good time to order, obviously hoping to derail further praise. 

"Pepper, with a side of pepper Jack burger for Dean," Balthazar later presented, "The Air, Land, and Sea burger for Cassie."

A solid five minutes later, when both came up for air, Dean inquired, "What on earth do you put in these burgers? It juth… maewths in ma mowth."

"Love… elbow grease," came the reply. "A fair amount of lard. The good old-fashioned kind."

Dean looked matter of fact, and pointed to his burger when declaring, "I know what I'm cooking with next time."

"It's all a process of trial and error."

Tilting his head, Dean wanted to know more.

"I didn't get this greasy spoon the first try, or the second. I've worked hard all my life. Had my savings account decimated. Once was a drunken trip to Reno, and nobody feels worse than me."

"What did the trick?" Cas wondered.

Balthazar paused to organize a few items on the counter, then he looked at both of them with sincerity. "Faith."

Dean hadn't expected the convo to go this route, but okay, he tried being an open-minded guy. 

"Faith in myself. But especially in others. Forgiveness too. I think I was afraid of what would happen if I succeeded. So holding back became a habit."

Confusion set in for Cas who asked, "Why would you be afraid of that?"

"Because it meant I'd have everything to lose. You think I'm not sweating bullets each time I put out a new burger? Not everyone is gonna like it. But every time I’ve tried to top my best, it's worked. And it wouldn't have been possible without help."

"You plan on changing the twelve to a thirteen anytime soon?" The man had ruined Dean for all other burgers, he _had_ to know.

"Couple of months. I might need some taste testers."

When their respective desserts had been delivered, of course Dean offered to share his pie, and Cas definitely suggested he try the strawberry milkshake, which in his opinion was superior to the vanilla bean. 

Dean tried not concentrating so hard on the fact his lips were touching something that Cas's had. He also went into meltdown over the precious little 'hmmms’ Cas made, each time he stole a tiny piece of crust from his plate. Ugh. It was all Dean could do to stop from pulling him into his arms, and nuzzling their noses together like some schmoopy scene on a holiday Gaymark card.

They needed to get going; Dean quickly paid, squashing Cas's attempt to at least go dutch. They started down a well-lit street to the north of the school. The sidewalks were safely maintained, and the houses were pretty enough to assume no psychos lived there who kept any dogs, lotions, and baskets in the basement. 

First house was a neat-looking craftsman, with a beautiful front porch swing and a soft glow emanating from within. Cas pressed the doorbell and stepped back upon hearing an army of pups trumpeting their arrival.

"I'm kinda nervous, Cas. What if they think we're Jehovah's Witnesses?" Dean chortled.

"Tell'em we're gay. True words will never be more convincing that we're not here selling Jesus."

Dean couldn't help the explosion of laughter erupting from within. 

"Wait, that we're gay, or not selling Jesus?"

Dean couldn't breathe he was laughing so hard, and wanted an answer before his brain or heart exploded.

"Hi Ma'am, my name is Castiel Mills and this is Dean Winchester. We're students from Lehnegate down the street, and we were wondering if you've been following recent events on the news about some disturbing sightings in the area?"

How had that smooth Rico Suave brushed off the situation so calmly? He didn't spend too long worrying, because an entire litter of Snoopys poured out the front door, surrounding them both in pupper sniffs and loves.

The confused woman standing in the doorway was clearly a soccer mom spread way too thin. Her children, of which there were many, zoomed around her, chasing after the pups like a merry-go-round with something resembling chicken nuggets in their grubby little hands. A younger child, perhaps in a high chair, screamed from another room, while the runt of the canine litter barfed on the entryway rug.

"Mommy! Mom!!!" yet another child cried, "I stepped in poop!"

Dean didn't think he'd ever felt so badly for someone. The bedraggled mother looked as if she'd burst into tears.

"This is a chaotic moment we've interrupted, we can come by another time. Will these pups be listed soon?" Dean wondered as he cuddled three at once.

"Two weeks. Craigslist. _Cheap,"_ she muttered.

Reluctantly, he and Cas handed the wet-nosed litter over to the multitude of little hands reaching for them just inside the door, and expeditiously departed the hectic scene.

On the trail to the next house, Cas prodded, "Thinking about a pet?" 

"Sammy's always wanted a dog, but with our Dad's deployments he thought it wasn't a good fit. Now we're settled here, who knows?"

As they approached the next doorbell Cas suggested Dean go next. When a stern, middle-aged gentlemen answered the door they received a curt, "Sell crazy somewhere else, we're all stocked up here."

"That's a Nicholson quote, Sir, not an answer."

Visibly riled, the man barked, "How'd you boys like to answer to Sheriff Mills?"

"Oh, would you mind calling her? That'd be great. As Dean here mentioned, I'm Castiel Mills, her son," Cas showed him his I.D. with a smile and finished with," if you could tell her how much you appreciate the community's youth reaching out to connect with county residents, she'd be quite pleased."

The gentleman huffed and gifted them a look of disdain while indeed, slamming the door.

Dean was worried the guy might actually call the station, but Cas shrugged it off. "Worst case scenario, she'll say 'knock it off and leave the ghostbusting to the professionals.'"

A few doors over, he and Cas hit pay dirt. A guy in his mid twenties answered, listened to their pitch, and offered to let them interview his grandmother. 

"Mimaw, some boys from the school would like to speak with you."

An elderly woman sat in the family room of the tidy home, propped up in a cozy recliner. Dean was certain she was the twin sister of the lady in the _Titanic_ movie. Her face brightened with vague pleasantness that someone had come to call. 

"This is Winnefred," the guy introduced, "and Mimaw, this is…?"

"Dean and Castiel, from the Lehnegate Academy."

"Nice to meet you boys. What brings you by?"

Dean explained, and Cas provided the description of what they were dealing with. 

"There's supposed to be a Lady in Blue with a tragic past up the coast a ways, but I don't recall seeing some floating black octopus sort of thing."

Dean was willing to gamble even on disappearances, and inquired if she recalled anything in Beauforts’ history.

Winifred sat in silence for several moments before answering. "Used to watch some youngsters in the neighborhood. They were good." 

She took her time, which they were happy to allow her, if it meant getting a solid lead. 

"One girl always had her best friend with her. She was nice too. They never went anywhere without each other. But they grew up. Such good girls."

Dean was at a loss, had Winifred met her memory quota for the day? "Did you stay in touch after they grew up?"

"Now, I don't know that they did."

_Something._

"Mimaw, what do you mean?"

"Well, maybe they did. Maybe they moved."

"Both families moved?"

"Just one, I think."

Cas carefully nudged, "But you aren't certain the girls moved with their families? Or did they disappear?"

Dean noticed her eyes become slightly distant, trying hard to remember something just out of grasp.

"I taught music at the school, did you know? Cello, viola, the strings."

 _And now we've gone off the rails,_ Dean thought to himself.

"Before people started looking, I heard crying."

"Girls crying?" Cas's curiosity was piqued.

"Yes. They'd stop by and chat about their studies. But I never heard from them again. People looked. And suddenly they didn't."

"Which family moved away? The best friend, or the girl you used to watch?" Her grandson prompted as he got up for something in another room.

"Her best friend."

"Ms. Winifred, what were their names?"

Winifred touched her cheek, and sat there for what seemed like ages before her face twisted into sorrow. "I can't recall now."

The second she became upset, Dean and Cas stood to leave. This had never been their intent. Yet upon seeing them rise, Winifred immediately sobered. "Braeden!"

"Right here," he called from the kitchen. He rounded the corner with a strained expression. "I'll get you your tea."

"Mitzy's scratching at the door."

"Mimaw, it's been two years now. I'm sorry."

Discomfort was kicking in something fierce. "We didn't mean to upset her," Dean apologized.

Braeden offered while walking them to the door, "Nah, it's alright. Been happening more often, visits are good for her."

Cas thanked Braeden for the visit with Winifred. They drove to the end of the street and turned right. 

"Lenora Drive, this is Eileen's street! Hang on, got her address, can we drive by her house?" Cas asked.

"Sure."

"Okay, 5479, should be on the right here, but down a ways."

They inched house by house, thankful for bright streetlights. 

"There's 5749. Wanna get a closer look?" Dean suggested. 

"No, I— I'm not gonna bug her at night. Her parents are so strict."

"Mr. Crowley and Mrs Naomi are kinda supposed to be."

"What? That's not— no, what?" 

Dean scooted Baby up a little further so Cas could get a better view of the scene playing out through the large dining room window. Mrs. Naomi had just set a dish on the table with oven mitts, crossing herself in prayer, and Mr. Crowley embraced her gently from behind. Closing her eyes, she appeared exhausted, physically and emotionally. He spoke to her softly, then she relaxed back into him with a wistful smile.

"This has to be the wrong address. Or I put it in my phone wrong. Shoot."

"You could ask her tomorrow?"

Cas's face sunk. Dean could tell he was upset about something. "Is everything okay with you two?"

Sighing, Cas admitted "I was a jackass a few days ago. Been trying to apologize, but you've heard us talk about how strict her family is. She can't even talk on the phone with boys."

It was nearing ten pm when Baby pulled up in front of Cas's house. They'd been animatedly discussing their individual art projects when the conversation slowed to a stop, as both awkwardly recognized the _not_ date reaching its end.

Before Cas could open the door, Dean tried switching topics to one he was exceptionally curious about.

"I have a confession."

Cas tilted his head in the most precious way. "Oh?"

"Couple of nights ago, I was walking around the cemetery and happened to see you and your mom, visiting someone."

Cas's face turned from curious to shocked. Dean wanted to take it back right away. "I wasn't stalking, I swear. Sometimes I go to be close to my mom and…"

"Your mom died?" 

Dean could melt, feeling the concern emanating from Cas.

"When I was little. Finding a quiet spot helps me sometimes."

He found understanding in Cas's forlorn reaction. But also deep regret and discomfort in his own story.

"Meg was my sister. She and her best friend were in a car accident. The night you saw us would've been her nineteenth birthday."

With a sinking heart, Dean said, "I'm sorry you lost her."

Cas's reply was quiet, but sincere. "Sorry you lost your mom."

Both sat there in silence as a few seconds passed. Then Dean tried broaching a topic that'd been on his mind for some time.

"Been meaning to talk to you about something Cas, and I know— oh, maybe we're in trouble…"

Right then a mom emerged through the front door in the darkness seeking her teen, idling in the front yard. Probably not to offer freshly baked cookies. 

"Huh." Cas opened the passenger door, casually greeting his mom.

"Hey Bud, Hiya Dean. What were ya guys doing tonight?" 

Something about Sheriff Mills garnered Dean's deep respect, and now was not the time to stupidly withhold information. 

"We were asking around for reports of anything weird, like what's been happening at school."

"That's pretty much what I got from Mr. Dennison earlier. Said he'd been a bit harsh, but wanted to thank me for having a well-mannered son." 

"Yerrrr… welcome?" Cas issued.

"Boys?"

"Yes?" they asked in unison.

"Not happening again."

"Okay."

"'Appreciate the intent, but it's a liability for the county."

"Understood."

"As you were." On that note she waved and scooted back into the house.

Cas turned back with a contented expression, thanking him for a cool night. It launched the butterflies in Dean's stomach which gave him the courage to suggest, "F.Y.I., We don't have to play _X Files_ to have a cool night out."

The gleam in Cas's eyes sent his mood to the moon. On his way back home, Dean belted to George Strait's classic, _Check Yes or No_ on the radio. It was the lightest he'd felt in years. Falling onto his bed in a heap, the warmth of the covers called him close to sleep. Then the vibration of his cell went off. 

>>Cas: Thx again 4 a fun nite! 

<<Dean: I had fun too. Sorry about your sister tho, I understand if it's tough to talk. 

>>Cas: Better than b4. Did your mom die here?

<<Dean: Kansas. But I talk to her anywhere. Cemeteries are peaceful. 

>>Cas: I visit. Don't talk tho. 

<<Dean: Maybe it'll come w/time. Were you born here?

They texted long into the night, and sporadically over the weekend, enjoying a higher comfort level than before, and had never been happier. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting curious yet what Sam "see's"? What he knows?  
> How do we think Miss Winifred's information fits?


	8. Chapter 8

Monday morning, Cas clutched his portfolio tightly against his chest, feeling his flash drive bumping the front pocket of his pack. Nerves and doubt clawed at him, spitefully taunting that far more talented artists were participating. But the thrill from the project's completion, and pride in putting a piece of his heart into his craft spurned him on, powering one foot in front of the other. 

Winning the Congressional Art Scholarship Competition would be only secondary to the culmination of hard work and painful self reflection he'd allowed himself to experience. His classmates and teacher could say what they wanted about it. Cas _loved_ it. That's all that mattered.

Speaking of love. Dean's form had been fully eclipsed in the hall by Sam's friend Zeke. Now, Cas could see Dean dressed in old jeans and a dirty forest green muscle shirt. He'd come early to work on his project for welding. Why did he have to look so perfect, so _hot_ , all mussed up like that? 

With each step taken towards the hall's entrance, his heart was bouncing and tugging him right towards the object of his unrequited affection.

Zeke signaled a "catch you later" to Dean and lumbered off, presumably in the direction of his first period class. This left a clear path between Cas and a suddenly shy, but smiling Dean. But he was unexpectedly shoved forward with such force it sent him barreling into the heartthrob in green, knocking both onto the school's well trodden linoleum.

Dean bellowed, "Watch it dick!" 

"I'm… sorry. Really. Are you hurt?" Cas apologized in horror.

"Not you, Cas. _BART,_ you're a real jerk!"

Bartholomew's obnoxious guffaw echoed, as he tore a path through outraged students to the media room at the end of the hall. 

As soon as Cas extracted himself from Dean's lap, he realized his portfolio had fallen open beside them and his sketches were scattered. Pawing frantically at every page he could get his hands on, his blood ran cold and his heart pounded harder. In his scramble to find it, his attention became so diabolically focused, he tuned out everyone and everything, trying to find _that one_ sketch, which Dean was in the process of peeling off of his face.

Cas was desperate to misdirect him. "Dean, can you help me pick these up?"

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Not your fault. You didn't shove me, you caught me. Sort of. Thanks for that."

"No problem. Anytime."

It felt like maybe the misdirection was working. He needed to grab that page from Dean, or he'd glance at it and get an eyeful.

Tingling senses alarmed over his skin, the back of his neck, his scalp. At first it was a few whispers and gasps. Then Cas registered the terrifying silence suddenly filling the hall.

Students were examining their phones with extreme interest. Everyone's shock was warranted, if their phones revealed anything like the painfully slow content scrolling across the school's TV monitors.

Cas reached back for the clip on his bag which held his flash drive. The clip was there. The flashdrive wasn't. He frantically checked every zipper, pouch, pocket… anywhere he might've moved it, in his mounting nervous state. 

"No! No! No!" he quietly cried. 

This was so much worse than he'd ever imagined. He was going to puke on top of everything else that was assaulting him at the moment. The hard knock from Bart hadn't been random. 

"Where is he? I know it was Bart, where's that asshole?!" he could hear Sam thundering around the hall's north corridor.

He kicked the media door down like Chuck-fucking-Norris. Quicker than lightning, there was a voluminous commotion, then the dick in question was flung clear across the hall into a wall of lockers.

Cas's brain was glitching. Shock had momentarily seized him. The hall’s stunned occupants now split their attention between Sam throwing Bartholomew around, and dozens of cell notifications hitting at once. 

But all that seemed irrelevant, because Dean was staring back and forth between the TV monitors and the sketch. His beautiful green eyes widened in ...horror? Shock? Disgust? Most assuredly there was question in them.

Bart had swiped his flash drive and locked himself in the media room. A room he was intimately familiar with and spent an obscene amount of time in. He'd uploaded Cas's art, _all_ of his art, for the entire student body to see. Every monitor was broadcasting throughout campus.

The silhouetted outline of two faces kissing were nestled in a plethora of Impalas Volerus zooming around both figures. Dean was looking at one of Cas's drafts before he'd scanned it in his computer for further work. The same nearly-finished work scrolling across the monitors. 

Lehnegate's tallest freshmen, Sam and Zeke, were pinning a fuming Bart while the Headmistress was summoned. Classmates were fixing more of their attention on Cas as he pulled himself up from a rather comfy looking Dean. Some whispered between each other while looking at Facebook, since the notifications on his phone began chiming like an app on amphetamines.

No one uttered a word, they didn't have to. Surely they were sharpening the proverbial knives and pitchforks. And Dean? He couldn't bear to look him in the eye. Cas tried stealing the sketch from Dean's hands, but those hands weren't giving it up. Pulling again, he became aware of someone softly saying his name. But no. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want any pitiful, "I like you as a friend."

Tugging on the thick sketch page again, he felt the uneven give of tearing paper. A little at first, then all the way through. It may as well have been the pain tearing through his chest. Why wouldn't Dean let go?! Hadn't this humiliated them enough? 

His feet marched him onto the rain-drenched front steps, where seconds earlier he'd ascended as if he'd sprouted wings. Crushed under the weight of grief and shame, Cas lacked the desire to even retrieve the remaining art, strewn about for everyone to behold, judge, and condemn. 

Each step was the pounding of a judge's gavel. The slam of a holy monograph thrown down with demands for repentance. Dean probably never wanted to speak with him again. Cas hoped Dean's reputation wasn't destroyed over this. For himself, it was too late. 

The coolness of damp earth and softness of the grass under his favorite tree was the only comfort he could find. Like a formidable ice dragon, the breath from his inflamed lungs curled before his chilled face. Shutting his eyes tightly, Cas wouldn't let himself cry. 

He focused on one breath in, one out, half a second at a time until the threat of tears subsided. Goosebumps waterfalled down his spine, arms, and legs. A breeze akin to frozen hands brushed his ruddy cheeks, as if cupping them in a soothing gesture. It hadn't been this cold moments ago, had it?

"You done runnin'?"

The unexpected voice felt like a heart attack via IV injection. Cas startled so quickly, black spots danced across his vision. The torn page in his hand was almost forgotten. Odds it would rip along the seams of their mouths were so slim, and so utterly cliché. 

Yet, the jagged edges separating him and Dean, intensified every crack and fissure further spreading inside him. Curling his knees closer to his chest, Cas turned away, too humiliated to provide a response. 

A warm presence invaded his personal space. _Here it comes. The 'I like you but…'_

"Can we trade?"

Cas's head whipped around in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"I see this mug every day when I pass a mirror. It's not bad. Maybe less freckles. Could use a little more shading too."

"It's a draft!" he incredulously swiped at Dean's half.

Dean yanked it back out of reach, having anticipated his response. Had Cas miscalculated Dean's probable embarrassment? Was he really this cruel to tease at a time like this? His respirations grew more erratic by the second, while staring ahead, unwilling to reveal how upset and hurt he was. 

_Nudge._ Dean leaned in to him, attempting to elicit another response. 

"Hey, Cas." _Nudge._

He wasn't gonna give him the satisfaction. 

_Bigger nudge._ "Cas."

Lava was boiling and bubbling. 

_Even bigger nudge. But with a startlingly soft inquiry._ "So, you like guys?"

Cas opened his eyes to let him have it, but found the most sincere, disarming look of.. _hope? s_ taring back at him.

"Why does it matter?" It came out an emotional whisper, rather than the irritated grumble he'd shot for. 

"Cause," Dean paused while lining his half of the torn page to his own, "looking at your face on my binder everyday would make me a lot happier than gawking at one of mine."

He wasn't sure if all of what Dean just said was computing. His brain was lagging. When he finally snapped out of it, he could see him putting careful, final touches on the sketch which he'd lined up perfectly and repaired with tape on the back. Sketch Dean and Cas were kissing again. 

"Why would you want to keep mine on _your_ binder?" 

Dean sheepishly let fly, "I'm not the only one around here with a pretty face, ya know."

"I have no idea what Bart's on right now. He obviously stole my flash drive intending to ruin me, but no way could he have known this was on there. I wasn't going to share it with anyone. Sorry you got dragged into this nightmare."

"This ain't rocking my boat." Dean spoke with such a nonchalant attitude, it was confounding and infuriating to Cas, who just wanted to get the 'let down' done and over with already.

Glaring a serious 'WTF' at Dean, Cas decided to give up trying to figure him out. 

"I don't advertise batting for both teams, but I'm not hiding it either. If you're not straight, it's alright cause, you're not alone."

Cas was floored. Dean was just as casual about himself as Mick Davies had been. He wished it could really be that easy, but knew better. 

"The entire school saw that picture, Dean."

Shaking his head with the tiniest of smiles, Dean's eyes softened, "Yeah, about that amazing picture…"

Cas felt a warm, wet, but reassuring hand covering his own in silent comfort. Taking one last deep breath, he exhaled, bracing for unpleasant news.

Lifting the repaired draft of the daydream doodle, Dean regarded the work with genuine happiness. "Wanna go to homecoming with me, Cas?"

"W-what?" Homecoming? That was the last thing he expected to tumble from Dean's mouth. 

Shit. Holy shit. Understanding hit Cas like a bolt of lightning. "How?" he gently issued.

"How what?" Dean disappointedly asked.

"How would we go?"

The rain was really beginning to pick up, and was pelting their heads with large, heavy drops. Dean stood and brushed off his Levis, then offered Cas his other wet hand.

"Figured we'd jump in my car. Then head in the direction of the school. Like everybody else."

With an eye roll Cas clarified, "I meant how are two guys, _together_ , getting into homecoming? Isn't it against the rules? Wasn't very long ago two guys together, _period_ , broke the law."

"Again, this isn't rocking my boat. If they say no, I'll still take you to dinner. We could get really wild and see a movie or go bowling. My dad's been whining at me to spend some money and go on dates."

"Does he know?"

"That I'm bi? Yeah, he just wants me to be happy."

Cas would give anything to be that open with his mom. She knew him so well. It made him sick sometimes, in this modern era, having to keep this secret locked inside. But he wasn't taking any chances, given the last time he'd come out to someone he loved. 

And yet standing right in front of him was Dean, the spitting image of an infamous rebel with a leather jacket and a bygone muscle-era stunner on wheels. He cruised through life, open and honest, as if it were as simple as breathing. 

Out of nowhere, Cas burst into laughter. He couldn't stop. Not even when he bent over, clutching his side, which started aching.

"Care to elaborate?" Dean stuttered, appearing wholly unsure about the bizarre outburst.

"You want me to hang out at a place we'll be touching each other’s balls all night."

The corner of Dean's mouth upturned and he snorted. "Okay. You're not wrong."

Right away he noticed Dean still firmly holding his hand after helping him up, and it felt really nice, despite the increasing monsoon.

"Cas, that picture you drew of us kissing, it's awesome. I don't want to regret never finding out if it feels as good as it looks." 

Was Dean saying what he thought he was saying? Did he want to kiss him? There was his heart again, thundering excitedly at the mere hope this gorgeous guy liked him half as much as Cas liked him back.

He wanted to say yes. To all of it. He didn't know how the school was digesting him daydreaming about kissing a boy, let alone going to a formal dance with one. But Cas had let Mick slip through his fingers, Dean was a keeper, and the thought of missing out with him was just too much.

"I want to know too," Cas said, with a spike in confidence. 

He swore he saw fireworks in Dean's eyes. The corners crinkled in the most beautiful way. Still holding his hand, Dean gave it a mild squeeze, and Cas felt the warmth of the other come to rest against his neck, gently pulling him closer. The skin under his touch zapped, as if his fingers conducted the current of love itself. When their lips touched, two halves of a broken, scarred heart were welding together under rain and sparks. 

All its fissures, scratches, and denting sustained over the years under the crushing weight of their guilt and grief melded together. Every mark left by their pasts were fused, making distinct, iridescent colors and patterns. Cas was certain the genuine care, ache, and restraint from Dean's lips was as great as his own. If listening to poetry was pleasure, then kissing Dean was to physically experience each quote of longing, joy, and burning desire he'd delivered by words thus far. 

Cas let his free hand roam, slithering around Dean's waist inside the warmth of his leather jacket. The heat kindling within their space brought an exquisite balance against the crisp coolness of the morning. As the school's starting bell rang, neither relished the thought of letting go. 

Dean peppered his forehead with sweet kisses, which melted Cas where he stood.

He couldn't help murmuring, "Even better than I'd imagined."

"Mmm, same." Dean captured him in another kiss. This one deeper, more intimate than the last.

The unhurried brush of his smooth lips, gentle sweeps of his tongue, and Dean's warm breath with just a hint of apple pie was heaven on earth. _Oh stars!!_ Cas _finally_ understood why sonnets were written, songs were sung. Prodigal artist though he was, he'd never experienced inspiration so _pure_. Until now. 

The satisfying scent of fresh rain unevenly sprinkling their hair and cheeks, tethered Cas to terra firma, but in a pleasant way. Had the heavens opened just for them? The sound as it washed the world clean of impurities, doubts, fears, became a magnificent symphony. 

Both were beaming as they walked back towards the school.

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Dean wondered.

"I want to go to homecoming with you, if they'll allow it. If not, I'm down for ball handling." Cas popped an eyebrow at Dean, who chortled as he opened the door for him leading to the main hallway.

"Ah, Mr. Winchester. Mr. Mills. Please join me in my office." Mrs. Naomi had appeared in a determined march towards the front entrance. 

Both immediately grew tense, they followed her as if traipsing down Suspension Row. Cas noted the TV monitors were turned off completely, though it brought little consolation after the fact. His nerves began cannibalising his insides all over again. 

He saw Bartholomew under the wrath of Mr. Crowley in his office, and wondered what kind of ass-reaming awaited them. No way was Dean getting punished for something he didn't do or bring down upon himself. This was all Cas and Bart. 

Mrs. Naomi kindly gestured for them to sit while she closed her door. "First of all, we take student privacy and the breach of such, very seriously here. How are both of you after what just happened?"

Smoother than silk flowed Dean's response. "Don't worry about me, I'm out. But Cas isn’t. What Bart just did to Cas is unacceptable, and unforgivable."

"And against the law," Mrs. Naomi informed.

Cas envied how easily Dean could recover from something like this. For him, it wasn't just water off a duck's back. His stomach was a dish towel soaked in acid and wringing itself out. 

As she flipped through his portfolio, which someone had obviously collected and given to her, she commented, "Castiel, you're quite gifted. This work was violated in a very public way, there's no excuse for what Bartholomew did. You have the choice and this school's support, if you want to press charges." 

There wasn't much to say. She'd hit the nail on the head. He was beginning to feel sick again. But Dean was right there, and the power of his touch drove away the tremors threatening to take over. He laced their fingers together, and instantly Cas was at peace. 

Mrs. Naomi remarked, "I'm glad to see this isn't as awkward as it could have been for you two."

Cas grumbled mostly to himself. "I don't know what I want to do yet. Just wish there was a way to stop him from bullying other kids like he does."

"That's something we all wish for. Is there anything either of you need?" she asked with overwhelming sincerity.

Dean jumped right in. "We wanna go to Homecoming together. Are there rules against that?"

"Students may come stag or with a date. The school's definition of date is two students attending a function together. I'm electing to leave the antiquated language in place." 

Cas slumped.

"That's because the language specifies a date, but doesn't specify any genders. So couples of any pairing have the right, in my view, to enjoy these functions."

Hope now welled inside him, and it appeared to do so in Dean as well. 

"The opportunity is granted to all in good academic standing and behavioral conduct, of which you both are. Therefore, I'm pleased to inform you that you're welcome to attend."

Cas knew the likelihood of one hundred percent fair reception was unlikely, and cringed at the thought of them walking in together assaulted with insults. 

"Castiel, to a degree there will be unfortunate consequences directly affecting you, which stem from Bartholomew's cruel actions. But I encourage you to come to the dance. Have faith in your classmates. My desire has always been to provide a campus where students feel safe and welcome to be themselves."

Still processing, Cas briefly nodded. 

"We appreciate that," Dean offered, while scrolling momentarily through his cell phone.

Mrs. Naomi slid the flash drive across her desk to Cas. "You have some real talent. I'm honestly hoping you share more of it with the school. Willingly, of course."

Cas's cheeks reddened, he wasn't used to examination of his work save for his art instructor. Accepting praise always felt awkward. 

He mustered his enthusiasm for a genuine, "Thank you." 

Handing over the portfolio, she dismissed them. "If you experience any negativity, I want to hear about it immediately."

Dean and Cas could see Bartholomew sinking lower and lower in the office chair directly across from Mr. Crowley, who looked positively demonic in his ire, while spewing disdain at his behavior.

Now in the desolate hall, Cas's stomach twisted at the thought of interrupting art class, with the eyes of judgement cast upon him. 

"Hey. You wanna skip? Nobody would blame you."

Quickly considering it, Cas admitted how appealing the idea was. "I want to. But it won't change anything. And if I don't turn my project in, I miss this year's submission and chance for a scholarship."

Cas knew Dean understood. Although, the desire to blow everybody off and spend the day together sorting unspoken tension between them was strong.

Again, fingers brushed Cas's cheek. Dean leaned in by his ear and whispered, "See you at lunch then?"

"Yeah. See you then." His heart skipped a beat when a lingering kiss replaced the soft fingertips. 

For just a second, Cas forgot the troubles of the morning. He hated to see him leave, but was loving watching him go, and smiled to himself when entering the bathroom to collect himself before going to class.

The cool water splashing his face was refreshing. He still felt like bursting into tears over what Bart had done, but Dean liking him back somehow gave him a little more courage to be unapologetically himself. 

The door to one of the bathroom stalls unlatched, his heart began to race. Zeke stepped out and right away shot him a kind smile.

"Thanks for grabbing Bart earlier."

"That guy's such a dick. How are you holding up?"

"Ask me at the end the day after the crucifixions."

"What? Dude, people are stoked about this. Didn't you see the school's Facebook post?" Zeke asked while washing his hands.

Utterly confused, Cas craned his neck, trying to process what fresh hell had happened. 

"I screencapped a few before it was taken down." 

Zeke proceeded to show him the disaster Bart had posted via Lehnegate's page. He'd uploaded the pic of him and Dean kissing. He also wrote above it, "How about we nominate these two idiots for Homecoming Queens, eh?"

"Oh shit!" Cas slapped a facepalm against his forehead. 

"You really haven't seen the thread have you?"

"I don't want to."

"It's not bad. For real.Take a look." Zeke offered his phone for perusal.

Underneath the cruel post from Bart, students were rallying in support of Dean and Cas.

 **Randall Turner:** You're an A+ human ya know that? Take his art down you jackwagon! This has to be a violation of something.

 **Jeff Baker:** Asshole move man. Ya know what? I nominate them for Homecoming Kings, for real. 

**Lisa Berry:** This is a beautiful picture Bart, and NOT YOURS to share. TAKE IT DOWN NOW! 

Replied by **Jeff Baker** agree! Cast my vote for Homecoming Kings.

 **Jesse Turner:** Bart nobody likes you, and it's for this shit right here! Take it down, leave them alone. **Jeff Baker** mark me down for another vote!

 **Ezekiel(NOT-the-Elliot):** You. Me. **Sam Winchester.** After school. Better have good dental records. This shit ain't cool. Well the art is, but posting it isn't. And **Jeff Baker** count my vote too. 

**Gordon Walker:** I don't want to see this homo shit on Facebook. Don't be bringing it to the dance either. 

Replied by **Sam Winchester:** Then keep your homophobic ass home!

There were at least five more screen caps Zeke had taken with similar sentiments in support of him and Dean. Once in a while there was an iffy, semi-non supportive response. This was life. Not every person would agree or be nice about it. But Cas hadn't expected _any_ support, and was heartened.

"Hey, you think Sam will go to Homecoming if I ask him? I've had a crush on him since the first day of school, but I don't know if he's… um, if he—"

Cas immediately offered his support. "I think you should ask him. He's a real nice kid."

"Alright then," Zeke's eyes shone with renewed enthusiasm. “Hope your day gets better."

"I appreciate your help. Thanks."

"Anytime."

**☆☆☆☆☆**

Dean wanted to hold Cas's hand so badly during lunch. More accurately, he would've preferred smothering him with hugs and comfort kisses all day long. His _boyfriend_ deserved it after the shit storm that morning. _But since when do we get what we deserve?_

He understood Cas was a raw, exposed nerve right now. Might be for a while. Given his mother's jovial demeanor, plus the familial closeness with Hannah and Balthazar, he couldn't fathom him being afraid of coming out to them. Yet, it wasn't his business. 

For now he stayed close, not pushing for PDA without first knowing his comfort level. He was relieved when Cas leaned into him, accepting the simple closeness.

After school, Cas sat beside him to wait for Sam on the bench he'd shared with Eileen. The weather was sunny again, but not exactly balmy. Glancing for passersby, Cas took Dean's hand, folding it with his.

Turning to Cas he inquired, "How're you doing?"

"Better," Cas murmured, suddenly becoming shy. "It's embarrassing how often I've dreamt of kissing you."

Overwhelmed by the admission, Dean tried waving it away. "Yer making me way too happy today, alright? You've gotta stop… _but…_ same."

Both sat in silence, with pink cheeks and awkward smiles plastered on their faces. 

"Does anyone else know?" Dean wondered, hoping Cas inferred his mother by his question. 

"No. And I don't want my mom finding out. Not right now."

"I'll respect whatever your situation is, but she's gonna find out. Word travels fast, and with her being sheriff and all…"

Dean saw the boiling turmoil return to his eyes.

Cas pleaded. "I can't. Eventually it'll happen. _Please_ understand, for now, I just _can't."_

The pure anguish on Cas's face told him to drop it like a hot potato. "Alright. Zero pressure. It's just, I see you're hurting, wish I could help."

It pained him to see Cas stewing in such grief. But then a distraction flew down the entrance steps, holding hands.

"I'll be damned Cas, looks like we'll be double dating for Homecoming," Dean exclaimed.

"He confessed his crush this morning. Wow. Your brother looks ecstatic. I've never seen someone so over the moon… and… blushing over hand holding."

Dean's appreciation for his brother's happiness abruptly halted. "That's… aw dude, we're gonna have to talk about that. Yuck. Sam told you who he was right?"

"He can see stuff?"

"Most information Sam receives is by touch. I'm willing to bet on Baby that smirk is from whatever's running through Zeke's mind."

"Yikes. Fourteen year old hormones. Changing the subject _NOW."_

"Not that nineteen year old hormones are any better.”

He held his arms out in a grand gesture at Sam and Zeke. "Finally! I get it. You felt sorry for us poor bastards this morning and outed yourselves in solidarity. But no stealing our dramatic non straight thunder. And you, don't make me give you the big brother talk.”

Zeke looked terrified. "O-okay."

"Wipe that grin off your face around me. Sammy gets to explain why." He winked at Sam, who suddenly turned green. 

Dean gave Cas a gentle hug, before watching him climb in his truck. "Text me later, lemme know how you're doing."

"Yep."

He hoped Cas could come to terms with whatever he struggled with.

Zeke also hugged Sam before parting ways. Dean couldn't be certain, but he thought Zeke left a kiss on Sam's cheek.

Dean begged in Baby, "Stop smiling like that. Everytime I see that look, I'll be traumatized with the idea you're daydreaming about depraved stuff with him."

"He has a good imagination, Dean."

"I'm happy for you, but I don't wanna know!"

" _Dean,_ I love kissing boys. Why didn't you tell me it's so awesome?!"

"For the same reason I don't need to hear this crap right now!! Enjoy it. Silently. In another direction."

Sam giggled before gluing his mouth shut, until levitating through their front door. "Dad! Hey Dad, guess what?!"

John's head popped out from the office in interest. "What's all the excitement about?"

"Zeke asked me to Homecoming and I said yes. Dean, your turn."

"Oh, now that I've got _your_ permission," he mildly snarked. Turning to John he explained, "I'm going to Homecoming with Cas."

John's eyes lit up. "Well, this deserves a bottle of the good stuff." 

Seconds later, he re-emerged from the garage with three bottles of ISB Rootbeer, plus an invite to the kitchen table. "Sit down, tell me all about it."

Adding a pizza to the table an hour later was how the Winchesters spent the remainder of their night. Dean was never more thankful for his dad's acceptance and enthusiasm.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all aren't throwing knives at me right now. I think Dean handled it pretty well. Plus we got a kiss and a Homecoming double date to look forward to!


	9. Chapter 9

Dean was glad Cas agreed to Halloween costumes, since the dance fell on Saturday, October 31. Most students preferred clever, relaxing costumes over shelling out for expensive, one-time finery. 

Although more bow-legged than lanky, Dean could pull off weak-in-the-knees Scottish swagger bedecked in jet black like nobody's business. Smiling while adjusting his collar, he loved that he drove the American archangel equivalent to the Bentley's demonic appearance. _Eat your heart out Tennant, you sexy bastard._

His custom contacts were a bitch putting in and even worse seeing through, so they could wait to wear them until others too, were swaying in the dark, stumbling into one another around the gym. 

Straightening his black blazer, he slid on the steam punk-esque Vanlinkers, purchased for a thrifty eighteen bucks on Amazon _._ Strutting his best Travolta into the family room where John awaited, twirling keys to the pick up.

"Look at you, all gussied up. If this fails to impress, I question the kid’s judgement." 

Dean attempted to hide a smirk. "I don't. His answer was yes." 

John proudly chuckled. 

Looking at his watch, Dean wanted to raz Sammy a bit. "Hurry it up, Bitch, we're late!"

"We _are not!"_ Sam fussed, emerging in a white-on-white pants suit and dress shoes. 

'Sammy, what the ever lovin' Hell…" Dean couldn't express strongly enough how that get up creeped him out. He couldn't even articulate why.

John grinned. "You make a handsome Lucifer." 

"Zeke's going as Morningstar in a black suit," Sammy informed.

"Demons I get, but that's… just crazy."

"Leave him be, your brother looks good," John ordered. 

Pulling out his phone, Dean feigned shock, "Crap, Zeke texted he's grounded. Walgreens is demanding he return the freshman-sized condoms he stole." 

As Dean stifled snorts and giggles at himself, he noticed his Dad pause.

"Enough! Some stuff I don't want to know."

"Misery loves company Dad."

"Misery's gonna be late picking up his boyfriend if he doesn't quit fussing over Sam, cause dear old Dad has him covered."

Dean heard it. The proverbial vinyl record scratching to a halt. "We're doubling Dad, I told you the other day." 

John was overcome with frustration. "You four spend so much time at school together already. Don't you Seniors want time to yourselves? C'mon, I'll drop them at Ménage, and wait in the car."

"That's ridiculous," Dean stated.

John argued, "Not as ridiculous as sitting with them on their date."

"It's too late to get reservations anywhere else."

"Ménage doesn't do reservations."

"Exactly. And you don't have to wake up later for pick up."

"It's my job! There a reason you don't want me to? Sam, you think I'll embarrass you?"

Sam wore an expression of extreme discomfort. "No! Don't bring me into this tonight."

"I want to know," John demanded.

Dean begged, "Dad, please. Just enjoy a quiet night here. I've got it."

"Well, I don't 'got' it. Why's my involvement such a hardship, Dean?"

"No! It's not." 

But it was for Dean. And he realized his difficulty letting go of it. 

"Why do you insist on excluding me, huh? What have I done wrong? Tell me! Feels like I've watched you both growing up from the window outside. I've tried getting in… best I get is guest status."

Opening his billfold, John set out a crisp $100 on the counter and walked out.

Dean recognized how out of control this compulsion had become. It made him nauseous. Maybe it was time to talk to someone. Not about everything, but enough. Conflict over wanting to catch his dad and make him understand, versus running to Cas, ensuring this night was everything he dreamt of, was an excruciating tug-of-war.

"You ready?" 

Sam walked out the door in silent answer. 

**☆☆☆☆☆**

"Dean's here!" Jody hollered. "Sam and Zeke, too?"

Cas nervously pulled at his tie, hoping it resembled the one from Youtube.

"All the hot dates were taken by the time we got around to asking."

"Mhmm. You have fun and be safe, understand?"

"Of course, Mom."

"Can I get a picture?"

"Mom!"

"Alright, alright. Had to ask."

"They've got a photographer," Cas reassured. 

"Bring me something, please!" Jody begged, waving at the Tres Amigos from the front door. 

Cas thought Dean was drop dead gorgeous in his Crowley costume, as he opened the door for him.

"We did say Good Omens, right, Cas?"

"This was the only tan coat I found," he defended, tugging once more on his blue tie, and straightening his tan Members Only thrift store jacket.

"Nice improv," Dean reassured with a grin.

Cas reached for Dean's hand, giving it a loving squeeze. So much more than this customary greeting hung between them. Over the last few days, they'd found alone time in short supply. 

Delicious burgers were had by all at Ménage. They even ordered one full pie between the four of them. By the time it was finished they were bursting at the seams. 

Dean tossed the keys to Sam and Zeke, while he took care of the check and Cas talked with a server. Minutes later, Cas witnessed Dean chucking mints at the driver’s side rear window.

"Knock it off in there!"

"Why are you assaulting your 'precious'?" Cas curiously asked. 

"You're my 'precious,' _she's_ my Baby. And I was breaking up the Trojan Twins in the backseat there for the thirty eighth time this week. Get your own car!" he hollered, opening the passenger door for Cas.

Sam loudly pointed out, "I can't drive yet, Dean!"

"So? Dad didn't haul that junker Charger all the way out from Sioux Falls for nothing! Besides, it ain't 'driving' in the back seat I'm yelling at you guys for, is it?" 

Over the last week, Cas had witnessed some pretty savage make out sessions he never thought possible between two fourteen year olds. He personally didn't care, but his boyfriend seemed thoroughly fixated on pumping the fucking brakes on these two, _literally._

But Dean just called him his 'precious', which sent his gay teen heart aflutter. This was gonna be one helluva night. 

Pulling up to the school, Cas noticed the fog quickly rolling in, giving an eerie appearance. Perfect for Halloween, as a shiver ran down his spine.

Would people stare at them dancing? Would they yell rude things? They'd been surprisingly chill at school for the most part, but this might be different.

Despite his fears, the rhythmic beat convinced Cas to put one foot in front of the other. Dean took his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

He was gently tugged into the line with their other classmates waiting for admission. Some students gave a warm hello, others were busy flailing in excitement. 

"Boys, I'm very glad you've come," Mrs. Naomi pleasantly greeted them at the door. 

Passing the threshold, Cas processed the gym's incredible transformation. Near the stage, stood a massive statue of Maui. Each corner had refreshment tables framed with Polynesian totems. Posters of hula girls hung in between silver and gold streamers. 

"Pretty nice Polynesian Paradise, huh?" Dean grinned and squeezed Cas's hand again, "I'm heading to the little boys room for a minute."

Swallowing hard, Cas triaged the emotional effects of paradise. Whomever worked on it did a beautiful job. Yet part of him struggled with seeing Meg everywhere. She would've loved it. 

When Dean re-emerged, flashing his startling reptilian eyes at him, Cas thought his face might break from grinning so hard. 

" _Deanmon_ you does things to _angel_ me," he commented, emboldened by the look, and took his hand. 

The fire in Dean cheeks made Cas's stomach twist. Having the ability to make his boyfriend blush like that was still so new for him.

A swift kiss placed on his forehead was his reward.

"Not sure what kind of angel you are, but you're definitely a hot one. That tie really brings out your gorgeous eyes."

Dean dramatically swung his arm over Cas's shoulders, bringing him in for a side hug and planting another kiss on his cheek. Re-entering the fray, Dean was clearly enjoying the stirring tune of Elvis's _Little More Action._

Cas noticed Zeke and Sam heading towards the photo booth, and figured with a group pose, his mom could appreciate the one homecoming he attended with the pic of him and his 'three good friends' being silly.

When it was their turn, they ended up with a hodgepodge collection of poses. Dean insisted on a Charlie's Angels one, where he was a demonic Charlie. Then he grabbed their empty cups to re-enact the very last scene of Good Omens. They all did a silly faces one. 

Then with a beet-red face, Cas asked Dean to do a serious pose. This he would keep. Hidden under perhaps four feet of floor board and concrete, but he never imagined he'd have a boyfriend, let alone go to Homecoming with him. He deserved that memento. 

Letting Dean pick the pose, he felt a gentle tug on his tie, and a forehead resting gently against his own. "Cas."

"Hm?"

"Open your eyes."

When he did he was struck with a reptilian glow, and he smiled. Returning to the dance floor, he heard acapella chanting and recognized the song. 

Contentedness waterfalled throughout Cas as Dean slid his arm around his waist, pulling him close, just lazily swaying to the music. He loved being able to throw his arms around Dean and hug him. 

He still experienced pangs of nervousness, anticipating a chaperone telling them to separate because two guys dancing was inappropriate, or an idiot classmate shouting stupidity. Maybe his nerves were showing, because a very confident Zeke started asking him where he got his slick Members Only jacket while Dean, still firmly holding him, was engaged in conversation with someone from his welding class. 

Suddenly, Cas shivered as he heard Dean singing to _Bastille_ by Pompeii. 

" _We were caught up and lost in all of our vices_

_In your pose as the dust settled around us"_

He decided to sing too.

_"And the walls kept tumbling down_

_In the city that we love_

_Grey clouds roll over the hills_

_Bringing darkness from above"_

Dean's smile reached his adorably demonic eyes. Then they were both singing the chorus to each other:

_"But if you close your eyes_

_Does it almost feel like_

_Nothing changed at all?_

_And if you close your eyes_

_Does it almost feel like_

_You've been here before?"_

Dean's head popped up briefly, Cas craned his neck to see what he was looking at, and spotted the Trojan Twins at it again. He was suddenly whirled around, held by one arm, as the other yanked Zeke off of Sam, and then it returned to hold him tight as Dean rolled right back into dancing.

Cas couldn't stop laughing and sung:

_"How am I gonna be an optimist about this?"_

Poor Zeke just stood there looking dazed. Sam rolled his eyes and marched off to get them drinks. Burying his face in the crook of Dean's neck, Cas breathed him in, not wanting to let him go. 

The music went on and on, friend after friend glided by waving, some stopped to chat. The evening was going by in a dream. Cas surely wished Kevin was with them. And Eileen even more. Once again he cringed, remembering how hard he'd been on her. He'd redouble his efforts to track her down after the weekend. 

Mrs. Naomi eventually had the DJ pause to make an announcement. 

"Happy Halloween! Everyone having fun tonight?"

There was an air of excitement as students clapped and whistled. Not being a frequent flyer at these events, Cas wondered what was going on. 

"It's time to choose this year's royalty!"

As she read off each grade’s candidates, Cas recalled seeing a few people nominate him and Dean from the screen shots Zeke had shown him. 

He hadn't even considered the possibility, and even now was quick to dismiss the idea, because just coming here with Dean was incredible enough. 

"And now our Seniors. This year’s Queens have all maintained a stellar GPA and participated in a variety of activities. They are Sabrina Sparrow, Rose Henley, Freya Grimsby, Lana Farris, Harmony Blackburn, and Lisa Braeden."

The crowd clapped in jovial anticipation.

"Our young men can boast no less accomplishment in academics, sports, and other extracurricular activities. Your candidates for King are Jesse Turner, Ben Sable, Isaac Ricutti, Dalton Newman, Dean Winchester, and Castiel Mills."

The crowd roared. Dean seemed surprised, but remained calm. Cas was losing his shit. Mrs. Naomi was opening a sealed envelope and his heart was in overdrive. No way could he have imagined their names were actually on the list for King. He'd be thrilled and so proud for Dean if he got it. He hoped he did. 

Once the envelope was open, the expression on their Headmistress's face was of elation and triumph, bordering on tears. 

"We have a first here at Lehnegate, your 2019 Senior Royalty are… Dean Winchester and Castiel Mills! Come on up boys!"

The gym exploded in applause. Cas had never been so shocked in all his life. 

"Holy crap, we won, Cas! We won!" Dean was gently tugging him to the stage, where Mrs. Naomi awaited and two underclassmen were holding a pair of shiny crowns. 

Cas was still trying to recover and process that in the span of a week he'd been outed, the boy he liked asked him to Homecoming, and here they were Kings, in front of all their classmates. It was almost too much to take in. 

When he and Dean had their crowns, a chant began. 

"Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!"

Cas went into a blind panic. Part of him was experiencing blatant stage fright. Another part wanted to refuse; he and Dean weren't something to be put on display like some fetish. And yet, another part wouldn't have minded. 

"Lehnegate Academy, meet your 2019 Homecoming Kings!"

Dean pressed his delectable lips on his in a soft kiss, lasting longer than just a quick peck, but not so long as to "overdo it."

Again, the gym shook with applause from their fellow classmates, and Cas could feel the joy exuding from Dean through his kiss. They were directed back to the dancefloor, to lead the next dance which had begun playing. 

_"I'm trying to hold my breath_

_Let it stay this way_

_Can't let this moment end_

_You set off a dream in me_

_Getting louder now_

_Can you hear it echoing?_

_Take my hand_

_Will you share this with me?_

_'Cause darling without you"_

Dean had slid his hand into Cas's, who pulled it around and rested both their hands against the small of his back. As they gently swayed to the beautiful song, he felt Dean's forehead resting against his, and his tie gently tugging him closer. 

_"All the shine of a thousand spotlights_

_All the stars we steal from the night sky_

_Will never be enough_

_Never be enough_

_Towers of gold are still too little_

_These hands could hold the world but it'll_

_Never be enough"_

How could he get so much happy all in one night? Cas's heart was bursting with joy at holding his boyfriend, dancing with him, and not only were others supportive, but pleased. 

The music was changing and fading into another song with a minimalistic beat and sparse, whispered lyrics. Yet Dean wouldn't let go of him and their contented rhythm. So that's how they stayed, lazily observing those around them bumping and jumping along to the catchy tune of Billie Eilish's _Bad Guy._

Sam and Zeke were merely bobbing side to side, Zeke being distracted with everything. Sam had a particularly distant look on his face, looking above the crowd of students following ... _something._

Cas turned a little, but Dean held him even closer, almost too tightly. 

"Don't look. Don't move. It's here. I can see it on Sam's face. Just give him a minute to signal me a plan, okay?" 

Of course the night was too good to be true. 

"We're gonna follow Sam, but not all at once, we don't want to piss it off. I think he'll lure it away from the gym to minimize the damage. I'm taking these contacts out. Can't see shit with them anyways," Dean fussed, as he began pawing them out of his peepers.

Cas nodded again. He was more pissed than scared. Zeke had broken away, on one route towards the hallway. Sam detoured to the drink table. Cas seemed unable to stop glancing upwards, as much as his vision would allow without getting a headache. 

Stilling in shock, his eyes locked onto its target bobbing up and down to the beat, only inches above the unaware students. _Was it fucking dancing?!_ Cas shrieked to himself. He couldn't tell if its tentacles waved in creative rhythm or in a mocking attempt to strike. The intelligence behind the movement was undeniable, yet grossly unsettling. 

Dean declared, "Keep your eyes on Maui, okay?"

"Got it."

With his hand in Dean's, he reached on his tip toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was the only bit of good luck to be had as they nonchalantly glided to stage right. Reaching Maui, they turned toward the throng of bouncing students. 

At first, they thought they'd lost it. Horror seized Cas, if they couldn't track it they were helpless to protect their friends. He urgently scanned the crowd, beginning to panic. A flash of movement caught his and Dean's attention. Sam was using ASL to convey that the entity was behind the adjacent speaker.

_"White shirt now red, my bloody nose_

_Sleeping, you're on your tippy toes_

_Creeping around like no one knows_

_Think you're so criminal"_

Turning in that direction, Cas was taken aback by how clearly it manifested. Still partially hidden by the large speaker, stood a semi corporeal _girl_. Her long hair was jet black, and swished along to her movements, which were most definitely dance-like in nature. 

_"So you're a tough guy_

_Like it really rough guy_

_Just can't get enough guy_

_Chest always so puffed guy_

_I'm that bad type"_

With each rhythmic beat, her flickering fists waved outward and her eyes pulsed with yellow rage. Cas had seen this girl before, yet his recall only danced on the edges of familiarity.

Attempting to track her line of sight, Cas's own eyes ached from the effort. He glanced back at Zeke, who'd begun signing he'd snag her attention, leading her towards the locker rooms. Dean's hand firmly squeezed his for attention, which he immediately got.

"This ain't happening. Over my dead body."

"What? What's not happening, Dean?"

"It... she's got her sights on Sam."

Cas took another hard look, and indeed from her vantage point her eyes were seemingly in a heated stare at Sam.

"We're gonna draw fire, alright?" Dean assessed. 

Signing to Zeke the change in plan, Cas stopped mid sign. 

"Shit!" Dean yelled. 

"Oh m—, Dean—" Cas tugged at him in horror, "she just. She _understood_ us. HOW?"

She whipped her head back and forth between them, then Sam and Zeke, connecting the dots that she had now become _the hunted._

Swelling into a huge black mass, her eyes paled, turning the mood into something different entirely. She looked back at Sam one more time, before throwing Cas a sharp look of alarm. 

"We gotta get her out of here right now, or someone's gonna be killed," Dean tried to voice.

_"I'm a bad guy_

_I'm a bad guy_

_Bad guy, bad guy_

_I'm a bad-"_

"Wait a second," Cas issued. As he took a few steps towards the solidifying mass, keeping an eye out for Sam, Cas caught on to whom the girl had actually been staring down so viciously.

As Sam moved away from the drink table with Zeke, a figure emerged from the shadows of a tiki totem mostly obscured by tropical foliage. Someone looking for all the world like they'd sell Hell itself for possession of Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope Homecoming was heartwarming. The guys definitely have a tough situation on their hands at the moment. But some answers are coming too!
> 
> Songs:  
> "Bastille"- by Pompeii  
> "Never Enough"- Lauren Allred, Greatest Showman on Earth  
> "Bad Guy"- Billie Eilish


	10. Chapter 10

Sam took off sprinting across the gym, barreling through various classmates, screaming his apologies. Zeke was tearing after him, playing 'catch the dominoes.' 

"She's taking the bait! Let's go!"

Cas heard Dean's declaration, but between the last burst of emotion he witnessed from her and that bastard Azazel creepily stalking Sam, he saw the girl’s actions in a new light. 

"Wait, she may not be completely responsible for what she's done. Mr. Lehne's over there, following right after Zeke and Sam!"

Cas and Dean headed directly behind him out into the hallway. Plenty of students were loitering along the corridor waiting by the boys’ locker rooms, as the girls’ was still under construction. He shredded the plastic yellow tape before entering. 

The two waited a few more seconds, then went in. Thankfully, the music's volume seemed even louder with the hallway’s acoustics, covering sounds of their pursuit. Cas nearly had a stroke when stumbling upon the girl pinballing around the room, tearing and pulling at Azazel, who'd firmly grasped Sam's neck and growled in his face. Zeke was caught between trying to yank Azazel away, and ducking to avoid the onslaught of the girl's attack. 

But was it really? She zoomed around erratically, smashing into things, sometimes with intent, other times confusion, as if punishing herself like a disobedient house elf.

"Get your hands off my brother!" Dean bellowed.

Azazel abruptly turned towards the commotion, with murder in his eyes.

Zeke tried once more to pull him away from Sam, but was sent flying over a row of locker room benches with far too much strength. Cas's heart may as well have ceased beating, because with his right hand now free, Azazel reached into his jacket pocket to retrieve a gun. Everyone took a step back. 

"What the hell, Mr. Lehne?! Are you crazy?" Zeke screeched.

Azazel turned his blazing stare into pure hatred. "Don't call me that. Ever." 

He cocked his gun, turning it on Cas.

"Drop the gun, Azazel," came a voice from the other entrance. 

Mr. Ketch had entered the room while attention had been on Sam, and the Lit Professor's gun was trained on Azazel.

"Or what?" Azazel snarled.

Cas watched in shock as Ketch shot him in the shoulder, as explanation enough. 

"Arthur Ketch, British Men of Letters." He introduced himself to all the kids. 

"I didn't exactly see my Lit Professor as the Bond type, " Dean murmured in clear stress over Sam's situation, but trying to deflect with humor. 

" _Men of Letters_ , Mr. Winchester. Think FBI for the paranormal, but um..much cooler. We've had Mr. Lehne under surveillance for several years, with him being a Fallen legacy and all."

Sam asked, "What's a _Fallen_ legacy?"

The girl bobbed and swooped at him. 

"Excommunicated.. Status Denied," Ketch shared. 

"Ruby!" 

All eyes fell on Mrs. Naomi, staring at the entire scene in horror. "Ruby, leave Sam alone. He's done nothing wrong. _Please._ "

Cas couldn't help voicing, "So she _is_ confused."

Mrs. Naomi began to clarify, "She's been trying to protect the students. But sometimes, it's like she goes mad."

"No, not mad. Improperly tied to someone or something," Ketch explained, while gesturing for a whimpering Azazel to stand, "possibly _him._ "

"That makes so much sense!" Sam yelled.

"Care to share with the rest of the class?" Dean barked with irritation at the notion Sam may have been holding out on him.

"I've felt moments of clarity from her sometimes, Other times it’s wildly erratic and angry."

"As is her right," Ketch pointedly stated, with malice towards Azazel, "He used shoddy magic to bind her years ago. Having been dismissed from our legacy program, he never received the proper training."

"I knew something was wrong with you, knew you'd been involved!" Mrs. Naomi cried. It was obvious she'd had suspicions towards Azazel, and only now had them confirmed, "you murdered Ruby, didn't you?! Then Eileen!"

 _Wait, wut?_ "What're you talking about?!" Cas gasped.

Just then, Cas watched Eileen sneaking from around the lockers behind Azazel, and suddenly fling him against the shower tiles with breathtaking strength. If Cas's jaw had touched the floor, he couldn't have been more surprised. He saw her turn to him with a sorrowful smile. 

"I'm afraid so, Naomi," Ketch soberly confirmed.

Azazel spat at them both, "You have no proof!"

"I do." 

Cas and everyone else witnessed another person joining the fray, holding a small, dark object in his hand.

"Mick?" Cas questioned in surprise. The guy looked more like he'd stepped out of a Black Ops video game, than a teenager on academic exchange.

"Hello, Castiel." Mick looked only mildly abashed by his obvious ruse as a once-upon-a-time student, "sorry to deceive, they sent me here to prove I was ready to get my training wheels off. How've you been?" 

Had he imagined Mick's flirtations? Cas's brain wasn't far from short circuiting. First Eileen was dead, and now Mick wasn't a foreign exchange student? 

"You weren't a student? H-how..That was fake?"

With a wink, Mick assured "Not us, that was definitely genuine. Still is. My sincerest apologies about Meg. Your devastation over the loss was truly understandable." 

Though Mick was indeed sorry, Cas knew Dean had no way of correctly discerning if the guy’s sentiments were real. 

"The fuck he just say?" Dean piped up and rushed forward, but Cas stopped him.

"I think we're getting off topic here," Ketch tersely correction-coursed.

Mick held his hands up and quickly offered, "I'm not here to stir up ancient dust. Full disclosure, we _are_ the good guys."

Despite knowing more about Mick's apology than Dean, Cas's rage was quickly spiraling. "Azazel. Murder. _Explain now."_

Holding the petite object for the class to see, Mick proceeded to do just that. "8mm film I just dug out of some rubble on the other side of this wall. As if the human remains won't be enough. You, Mr. Lehne, have been very naughty."

Azazel's eyes grew the size of saucers. "Been in the elements for years, you think it's still viable? I doubt it."

Mick smirked. "Oh ye of little faith. You underestimate who you're dealing with."

Mrs. Naomi stepped forward, slapping the shit out of Azazel. She then flew into a rage of her own, screaming all manner of pent up profanity, while doing her damndest to beat him within an inch of his life, starting with his bullet ridden shoulder.

"You son of a bitch! How could you do it? Two innocent girls who never did a thing to you? How?!" Ketch caught her as she slipped on the shower tile, and began sobbing uncontrollably. 

"There, there," Ketch tried to comfort, "He's not walking out of here. He'll never walk again. You have my word."

"Answer her, Lehne. Now," Mick ordered. 

Seething in anger, Azazel spilled. "I was barred from taking my rightful place as the family's legacy."

Mick called him on his bullshit, "Tsk, tsk. Let's be honest. You missed that psych eval by a mile. The program's very picky. And a legacy is no guarantee of admittance, only the interview process."

Azazel's eyes darkened in humiliation and venom. "I had to make my own way in the world. With no talent to speak of, why not make friends with psychics, a mutually beneficial partnership."

Ruby flung herself against Azazel, knocking him over and blasting light into him. 

Ketch firmly issued a spell, "Ipsum Revelare."

Immediately, the massive ball with wavy tentacles that had been Ruby, melted like water into a solid form of the girl Cas, Dean, Sam, and Zeke had seen an aching flicker of in the gym. She had long dark hair, and strong feminine features with rosy cheeks and lips. 

"The cellist... you're the girl with the cello in my art class!"

Ruby looked shocked, as if she'd not remembered herself in years. 

"Ruby!" Eileen wailed as she ran over, embracing her, tenderly kissing her face and lips. So they were...girlfriends. Eileen had been the recipient of that breathtaking smile, of a girl deeply in love! A pale light emanated from them both. 

Cas still couldn't believe it was true. Yet it explained why he never saw her anywhere else save school grounds, why she was able to move so fast, and why nothing modern was recognizable to her. 

Ruby confronted Azazel with fury and disdain. "Your idea of a mutually beneficial partnership was using my gifts for theft, and in return my grades wouldn't suffer!"

Cas noted Azazel's air of assumed confidence when replying, "Seemed like a pretty good deal to me."

"One day after cello practice he cornered me here. I refused to use my clairvoyance to steal for him, and this bastard choked me to death."

Ruby's anger turned to heartbreak and she walked back to Eileen. Holding her beloved's face, she cried, delivering the rest of the story. "You walked in and tried to save me. But I'd already been expelled from my body. Then he hurt you!"

Her rage manifested from inside her as a blast wave of energy directed at Azazel. Just before Ketch shouted a spell to stop her, part of his face melted off in the aftermath. 

He covered it and screamed, "Do you see what you've done?! Fix it! Ketch, you asshole, fix this! I've been maimed before a fair trial on your watch!"

"So you have," Ketch acknowledged without a hint of concern, "How very fortunate I've been granted the power of Adjudicator, this being...out of country, you see."

Mick directed towards Ketch, "Sir, shall I repair him?"

"No. Bodily desecration deserves bodily desecration in fair turn. Dearest Ruby. Please. Continue your testimony."

She appeared to calm herself, then proceeded to enlighten those present. "The sicko filmed Eileen after tying her up next to my body. Crying. Begging."

Cas and Dean both remembered Winnefred's account of hearing crying. 

Ruby sobbed as she detailed having witnessed Azazel walling both of them up in the locker room. 

"She cried until she had no more tears. She screamed until her voice left her throat. I was helpless to comfort her, to even make her see I was with her for the DAYS it took to die!"

Eileen hugged Ruby tightly, and let her sob through muffled apologies at not knowing how to get anyone's attention...until half a year later. 

Mrs. Naomi had been on the floor in tears while listening to Ruby outline her death and Eileen's. "Sister," she addressed Eileen while still crying, "The day you died, I found a group of students surrounding you at our car."

Mr. Ketch offered a tissue which she took, then carried on. 

"I didn't understand most of the name calling. Our parents were strict Catholics. We were never permitted exposure to things that would've helped me understand. But I understood enough when some called you a homosexual, we'd been warned about that in Sunday school. She and her girlfriend. They asked if I liked girls too."

Cas's stomach sank, and he almost tossed his cookies in sympathy grief for where this was headed.

"I said that would be blasphemy. My sister ran for the locker rooms in humiliation. I was a shy and sheltered fourteen year old, who didn't thoroughly understand what was happening."

Ruby explained, "I could hear people searching for us and tried getting their attention. But I couldn't even get Eileen's attention for her to see me and make noise to save herself!"

"I should've stood up for her. There was nothing, hindsight, that could've been done to save you Ruby. But I might've been able to save Eileen," Mrs. Naomi shook while signing, "I'm so sorry."

"So you stayed," Dean pieced together, "eventually Eileen was able to make contact with you. Ruby as well."

"Yes," she sniffled, but it's been very limited."

"He," Ruby pointing directly at Azazel, "bound me to him. People still get hurt even though I fight it! I don't want this anymore!! You're done hurting others!"

"Eileen!" Mrs. Naomi signed to her. Her sister instantly held her in her arms, while Ketch and Mick tried to contain Ruby's fury. 

"I'm sorry. I love you and miss you so much. You were my best friend, my sister. I've tried keeping others safe from him, but still failed."

Cas couldn't help his own tears from another loss, of one like the sister he'd lost two years before. Then an even more painful idea broadsided him like a bus, and he went rigid in Dean's attentive arms. "Did..you and Sam know she was a ghost this whole time?!"

"I'm sorry, Cas…" Sam said.

Dean attempted to explain, "I've been been trying to tell you for a while now, but we keep-"

Backing away, shaking with rage, Cas felt like the floor was slipping out from under him. They'd known that he'd have to say goodbye to her and did nothing. The betrayal ripped through his chest like a saw. "I even told you how much Meg's death hurt me, but you still kept this from me?" 

His brain wasn't ready for this. Over the last several weeks he'd felt the stirrings of moving on a little from his devastation of losing his sister. And Eileen, she'd come to him at his lowest point, when he'd needed a best friend exactly like her. Maybe they'd needed each other. That's why she'd kept nudging about him and Dean. She could see how they felt about each other, and tried getting him to open up!

But now another permanent goodbye was minutes away, one he could've prepared for, but even that was taken from him. 

"Cas, if you need some time, it's okay-" Dean was pleading with deep care in his eyes, but to Cas it only rubbed salt in his wounds. 

"Get away from me! Just go!" He shoved Dean away with so much pain in his heart. Feeling more alone than he'd ever had in his entire life, he wanted to be left in peace to say his goodbyes.

"You boys are free to go," Ketch motioned to all of them.

Cas wasn't going anywhere. He never got to tell Meg goodbye, come hell or high water he was getting one with Eileen. 

"Cas, how will you get home?" Dean's voice wavered with emotion.

"Not your problem anymore." He didn't turn to see their reaction. He didn't watch them leave. His eyes were filled with tears for Eileen and Ruby. And for himself.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who saw that coming? Anyone? Remember there is more story to tell and the night is darkest just before dawn. I assure you, dear readers, dawn is coming.
> 
> Ipsum Revelare - Reveal thyself (Latin)


	11. Chapter 11

A sour ache settled around the broken heart in Dean's chest. Cas couldn't mean what he'd said. _Not your problem..anymore._ He knew its intent extended beyond the transportation issue, yet the idea of them being over just as they were beginning was a brutal blow.

He felt Sam and Zeke keep a respectful distance, trudging down the hallway back through the gym. It took conscious effort not to bump into the throngs of couples hanging on each other, clumsily tipping side to side with the tunes. 

_"When the night was full of terrors_

_And your eyes were filled with tears_

_When you had not touched me yet_

_Oh, take me back to the night we met"_

God, it hurt. He knew he was falling for Cas. He'd tried not to, but the guy made it so difficult! The adorable shyness. How he'd flustered when his iPod cord caused a tangled, almost kiss. The siren’s call of his brilliantly blue eyes, but also neon warning signs of past pain. And his quiet intelligence, the spark to Dean's secret bookworm soul, had revealed a kindred spirit.

_"I had all and then most of you_

_Some and now none of you_

_Take me back to the night we met_

_I don't know what I'm supposed to do_

_Haunted by the ghost of you_

_Take me back to the night we met"_

Ugh, why couldn't he be Moses and just part the gym like the Red Sea already? 

Relief was an ice cold breeze, and a wall of fog from the grass to the car. The physical discomfort was a welcome distraction. Thankfully, the boys in the back seat were silent on the way home. Zeke embraced Sam on his front porch, and kissed him with a gentle reverence as thunder clapped and the heavens opened. 

On the final stretch home, Sam sat staring ahead into the darkening mist, as Dean carefully navigated through the worsening precipitation. Turning his high beams off, they made it back in triple the time it normally took. His brother B lined it for the shower, while Dean slowly made his way to bed, shedding his soaked layers to await his turn. Yet it was not to be.

There in his room, sitting by the light of his desk lamp was John. In his hands, rested an iron angel with long hair and tremendous wings, shielding two figures of a beloved father and son.

"Was saving that for Christmas. Thought it was hidden well enough in the garage, but, guess not."

"Dean, the craftsmanship here..it's unbelievable. When did you get so _good_ at this?"

"Dunno. I just tinker."

"I wish I could see more of this, but…"

"But what, Dad?"

His father's wall had been down, but now Dean could see its swift and steady rise. John waved his first thought away. Then sat up, as if preparing to stand and leave. 

"Just tell me one thing. Where's the other son?"

Dean's heart hit rock bottom with a sickening thud. He already felt painfully empty, he may as well hollow out everything.

"He doesn't deserve protection. Or forgiveness."

John's demeanor turned to disbelief. "Come again?"

"I don't deserve it. Never have." The words were the last breath of air leaving his lungs underwater before drowning. 

"Explain." The shift in John's eyes was that of someone scolded. 

"Mom died because of me. I was awake and could smell the smoke coming into my room. The alarm hadn't gone off yet, but I remembered what the firemen told us at school. So I grabbed Sam and ran outside, expecting Mom to be waiting for us."

John's look of paralytic terror nearly shattered Dean, but there was no backing out now. 

"The alarm didn't go off until I'd reached the front door with Sammy. I heard Mom calling for us, but it wasn't until I got to the curb that I realized she was still inside, searching for us. Sammy was crying, my voice wasn't working right. It was probably the smoke inhalation that kept me from yelling to her that we, we were okay... and.. t-to.. get outta there." 

Hot tears spilled down his face, the memories were now so vivid he was burning up with perspiration, he clawed at his shirt to remove it.

"But I held Sammy tight so he wouldn't fall, and I heard her. Heard her screaming for us and burning, knowing it was my fault she kept looking for us, and didn't make it." 

He felt like he'd vomit from choking to get it all out, like it was chemically-saturated smoke, billowing out his lungs with every word he coughed out of his mouth. 

"I saw how sad you were when you came home early from your deployment. I was the reason you didn't have a wife. That Sam didn't have a mom. I was sick with it for so long. But I've tried to make up for it. To help raise Sam, to cook and keep things clean. Help Sam get good grades, so you didn't have to worry and work so hard. I know it wasn't enough.. but I've tried!"

John launched himself out of the chair and swept Dean up in his arms with astonishing care, "Is this what you've always carried? Why you never let me in?"

Dropping his arms, John cupped Dean's cheeks, and looked at him as if seeing a ghost. It hurt too much seeing the light in his eyes go out. 

"I-I've watched you be a single parent, because of me. So many times I wanted to explain why I did something for you. Or Sam. But if I'd told you, I knew you'd look at me the way you are right now."

_The way Cas had looked at him before he'd left._

_"_ You could've drowned yourself in the bottle. Or taken all your anger and loss out on us, but you didn't. You just bucked up and loved us for Mom too. It's been no cake walk, sure, and there were times I wanted to make you understand why I couldn't- why I can't, let myself be the kid you want."

"Because you were trying to be the person I'd lost...my God, Dean," John broke out in tears, "you've traded your childhood to amend for a death that was never on your hands. I'm so sorry you felt like you had to be her! The fire wasn't your fault. Her death wasn't either!"

"How can you say that, Dad?! She died looking for me and Sam! If I'd have waited for her to get us-"

"You and Sammy would be dead too! There'd be three gravestones back in Stull, not one!"

Dean gulped, but couldn't breathe. He couldn't comprehend what John was saying. He was there! He saw what happened. Not John! "You didn't hear Mom calling for us!"

"But the neighbors did! Half the street heard your mother screaming. Dean, she was trapped. A ceiling beam had fallen, pinning her before she could get out of bed. The neighbors heard her calling for you, yelling for you to take Sam and run!" 

Dean was falling apart inside, watching his father trembling violently with emotional hemorrhage.

"I don't know what you remember, but if you hadn't done exactly what you learned at school, you and your brother would be dead. You did what your mother told you to do, even if you didn't know it! And there was nothing you could have done to save her, without dying yourself!"

Overwhelmed with the information from John, Dean collapsed on his bed. Wave after wave of emotion hit him; the swells were high and fast, it was almost too much to outswim. 

"This..instinct you have to protect and help, it's been inside you all along. You're hard-wired to save, and I've been damn lucky to watch both you boys grow up because of it."

John threw Dean's comforter over him. Chills had replaced sweats, and he cried uncontrollably. He didn't know how long he remained like that. It felt like hours had passed. He'd been vaguely aware of John falling asleep in his chair, watching over him. And then later, when Sam silently tiptoed in and pulled John from the chair into his own bed. Dean hadn't slept a wink. Hadn't moved a muscle while his overloaded brain processed all he'd learned. Sometime in the night he needed to stretch. To pee. And a glass of water wouldn't hurt. 

When he'd taken care of the essentials and returned to his room with a glass of water numerous dos, he spotted his phone blinking with a text notification. He unlocked the screen, rubbing the fog from his eyes to make sure he was seeing the screen correctly. _Cas?_

**☆☆☆☆☆**

"Naomi," Ketch sincerely offered, "our organization has gone through several..regime changes. We've been doing our best to clear the 'cold cases.' I'm sorry we didn't get to this sooner."

Eileen held Mrs. Naomi's hand, brushing errant strands of hair from her face, while she spoke and signed. 

"We've been limited in communication. But when I began seeing her, I couldn't abandon her. I'd devote my life to education, and providing children with a safe environment. Staying here allowed me that purpose, while maintaining an echo of the relationship my sister and I once shared. We tried freeing Ruby, but had no idea where to start looking for a solution, or proof Azazel did this."

Azazel just lay on busted wet tiles, bleeding like a broken bitch. Clutching his wounds, he was mad enough to spit nails. 

Cas grew curious. "What's gonna happen to Bart? Haven't seen him at school."

Naomi's expression turned hopeful. "He was expelled for what he did to you. I've spent the last week completing paperwork for his transfer to a military boarding school in Maine. Signing his permission was the kindest thing Azazel's ever done for him."

Ketch raised his eyebrows towards Azazel in surprise. "Your boy now stands a chance of clearing the family name, by making his own way in the world. A different way than _you_ , I promise."

"What will you do with him?" Cas grew even more curious. 

Ketch assured him, "The Men of Letters takes care of their own. That's all you need concern yourself with. Justice will be served."

"Castiel," Mick addressed, "I'm afraid it's time to say goodbye. We can give you a few minutes."

He looked to Mrs. Naomi, surely this time should go to her? And yet she firmly shook her head no, letting go of her sister's hand.

"Please, Castiel, you opened your heart and let her in. You both need this." She gestured for him to approach, and then stepped outside through the back entrance.

He didn't know what to say, this wasn't exactly a common occurrence. Eileen hugged him tightly, and a shiver went down his spine. 

Signing with shaky hands he said, "It really sucks having to say 'sorry for being a dick', and 'sorry you're dead' in the same sentence, ya know that?"

She laughed at him and responded, "I'm the worst for never telling you I was. Thought you'd freak out."

How did she do that? Instantly make him feel better about himself? And yet, he was grateful.

"I thought you'd freak out if I told you how I felt about Dean. Didn't mean what I said. I-I was just…"

"Scared." She held his cheek and it felt like smooth ice. 

"You knew all along, huh? The courage it took you years ago to give Ruby your heart, especially with your parents...you're so much stronger than I could ever be. And I accused you of doing nothing when you wanted to be free, not knowing you'd already done it, and paid the worst price." 

Cas couldn't help crying. Saying goodbye to her was the pain he never wanted to feel again after losing his sister. 

"A few years ago, you looked for all the world like you'd lost your soul. I wanted to help you find it again, but on your terms. It's been nice sitting next to someone who sees ME. You made being dead not feel so lifeless. Thank you."

Time was slipping away, and Cas's chest ached terribly. "You came to me, when I'd lost my best friend. My own sister. You made me feel like I had part of that back, I'm gonna miss you so much. And Ruby, I'm sorry about you too. Wish I could've known you better, without all the..the-"

"The crazy?" Ruby wistfully chuckled.

Cas nodded. "Yeah, that." 

Eileen implored him, "Sam is gifted and kind. He'll need your unwavering loyalty, as much as you need the friendship and clarity only he can give."

Although her mention of Sam stung, he knew deep down heavy contemplation on his part over the situation was sorely needed. Her friendship had given strength in a place weakened by grief, but not obliterated by it, as he'd believed. 

"And, Cas.."

He looked back up into her beautiful chocolate brown eyes, accepting her precious wisdom given in the spirit of hope, and absent of all judgement. 

"You and Dean are so alike. He's worthy of every ounce of your trust. The love in his heart is enduring and unconditional. If given the chance, you can teach each other to love what you think has held you back. You deserve it."

Ketch cleared his throat and regarded them apologetically. "It's time, girls. 'Tis a far better rest you go to,' I can assure."

Both girls surprised Cas, assaulting him with a chilly hug. Then they turned to each other and softly kissed. 

Ketch took a deep breath, and with a contented smile, issued a spell. _"Fare thee well."_

Both sadness and relief washed through Cas as he saw a massive, swirling mist with stars shimmering around them, like soothing celestial wings welcoming home two lost souls. 

The stars surrounding them began to fold within each other, melding with their forms and becoming a light-filled heart. It joyfully pulsed once, then peacefully faded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two dear souls finally put to rest. Two more in need of peace remain. Thank you for sticking around to learn the rest of this story. Let's see what happens!
> 
> "Tis a far better rest you go to"- Tail of Two Cities, Charles Dickens.
> 
> Song-  
> "Take Me Back to the Night we Met"- Lord Huron


	12. Chapter 12

By the time Mick dropped him off, the streets appeared as if the second deluge was upon Beaufort. Even his shoes were thoroughly waterlogged. The ride home hadn't been as awkward as expected. Unlike the look his mother gave him when noting his bedraggled ass squishing water all over their front entry way. 

"You don't fit the picture of a smiling Cinderella after the ball. Not with that fake blood splatter, anyhow. And that wasn't Dean's car you climbed out of. Everything alright?" She gingerly asked.

Cas just stood there dazed and in shock, failing to reasonably excuse her observations without lying. He realized it was splatter from Azazel when Ketch shot him. Halloween was the only reason his mom wasn't freaking out.

After a few moments, Jody sighed and stood up from the couch. "I know, tell me to hush. At least get out of those clothes you swam in before passing out on your bed. It doesn't deserve the blood transfer from your shirt."

" 'Mready to tell you something."

Jody froze for a moment. Then she replied, "I'm ready to hear something."

His adrenaline was shot. The night had resulted in the end of his relationship with Dean, the end of his friendship with Sam, and the end of his bond with Eileen. May as well go for broke with his mom. 

The heavens had opened that night as if to wash the world clean of sin, and he was a walking, talking stain in the lives of those he cherished. 

"I'll shower." It could be his last good soak under her roof.

"I'll make tea."

Once under the steaming spray, he found that regardless of how hot it became, his body remained chilled to the bone. Quickly washing, he got out in search of warm clothes. 

He rev'd his laptop to life while Jody entered, bringing a hot beverage in the fruitless hope of easing whatever tough talk lay ahead. His poor mom had no idea. 

He pulled up the files he'd saved to his flash drive over a week earlier, but not without a slight tremor in his hands. When the first file opened, he heard the gasp he'd been anticipating.

Jody's eyes widened with emotion. "I knew you were working hard on something lately, oh Cas, this is _beautiful_. The depiction is..perfect," she covered her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks, "I miss walking in on your late night talks, telling you to go to bed. You guys always looked just like this."

The smallest confession would be his easiest. "I submitted it to the Congressional Art Scholarship last week." 

"It's amazing, kiddo. Hope you get it. You've captured that wit and loving mischief in her eyes so well. I miss her so much."

"I know. But there's something else I need to show you," he took a deep breath and tried smoothly moving the screen cursor over the 'next' button, and failed.

"Cas, you're shaking. Drink your tea. Are you getting sick?"

Shaking his head, he held his breath for a few seconds to force down the nausea before giving the screen a left click. "The reason you miss her, is because of this…"

His heart had surely stopped. He didn't dare look at her reaction to his day dream piece, now finished. His eyes glued to Clarence, who sat on his dresser looking back at him helpless to assist. Second after second passed in the loudest silence Cas had ever heard.

He couldn't stand it anymore. Getting up, he grabbed a bag and started stuffing random items from his dresser inside. 

Jody's voice was all confusion when asking, "What are you doing? I don't understand."

"Which part? Me packing, or the vivid drawing of me and Dean kissing?"

"The picture, I'm pretty clear on. I absolutely love it. Dean seems like a great guy. The head scratchers are how it's the reason I miss Meg and why you're packing. Cas, what's going on?"

"Y-you're not disappointed or..or upset I'm gay?"

If Clarence the Unicorn had stood up right then, announcing in Ru Paul's voice he'd been accepted on Drag Race, Jody could not have possibly looked more shocked. 

"Why-How could I ever be upset with you sharing something so important? Did you really think I would be?" She actually looked crestfallen at the thought.

Cas was so confused. She was taking this alarmingly well in comparison to Meg. And yet when she learned more, 'well' would not be how he'd describe her reaction.

"Cas, talk to me. _Please_. You can tell me anything. I want you to." 

"Mom, you're not gonna want to hear this. Believe me. It hurts so much to tell you." His shoulders shook with exhaustion, grief, and so much fear he'd be losing the last person he loved.

"What hurts? I can't help you if you don't tell me!"

"You can't help now. It's already done! I came out to Meg the night she and Lilith died. She was driving in the rain to get away from me, it grossed her out hearing I'm into guys. This is the reason she's dead! Because of me! You miss her because of who I am!"

"Stop it! What are you talking about? Where is all this coming from? Rip Van Narcolepsy in the truck killed Meg and Lilith, not you!"

"But I'm the reason she ran out of the house! She couldn't stand hearing anymore or be anywhere near me!"

Jody burst into tears. Sniffling and sobbing, she turned to leave the room. 

Something snapped inside. Cas launched himself at her, tugging her arm, pulling her back, sobbing and screaming at the top of his lungs, "No please! Mom! Don't leave me too! Not like Meg! There's no one left for me to lose! Please don't run away from me! It's raining outside just like that night. I can't help liking him, Mom, I feel really happy with him but I messed up and blamed him when I shouldn't have. Meg _was_ _my_ fault and you can blame me, just please..please..please don't leave!"

He was hysterical with fear and grief, clinging to her like an eight year old terrified of a kidnapping.

"CAS!!! Jesus! Honey, listen!!" She held him in a hug so tight it qualified as the death grip, just so he'd still, "I'm not leaving. Not going anywhere, I promise! Just getting something from my room to show you. Better yet, come with me. Let's go."

His large, bloodshot eyes still searched for proof she really wouldn't leave. His hands lacked the confidence or faith to let go, trusting she wouldn't tear out the front door in all her fuzzy, Victoria's Secret bathrobe glory.

"Tell me everything you remember from that night." 

Cas was still too far gone in his hysteria to even recognize Jody's distraction tactic, let alone call her on it. 

Within Jody's chest beat the steady heart of a Mother _and_ officer, possessing the indomitable strength and skill to calm a child with a scraped knee, or negotiate the most aggressive jumper off the McTeer Bridge to safety. 

Where other parents in this situation might fold, losing all ability to keep it from going off the rails, here she harnessed her saving grace. Here, she thrived.

She sat him down on her bed, while opening her night stand to retrieve a small object. Cas saw her keep it closed in her hand while sobbing through every detail he could remember. Each one he could see, chipping away pieces of her heart. 

"I don't know how you've kept this inside, Cas. You never needed to. I brought you to Marv because you needed help recovering from your sister's death. But I never suspected there could be more to it, and I'm sorry. Just knew you were still hurting, but never knew how much or why."

She opened her hand, revealing a small black phone with a crack in the corner of the screen. When pressing the side button, it flickered on, the wallpaper softly glowing with Stitch baring his teeth in his trademark adorable snarl-slash-smile.

"Meg didn't go to the party that night. The guy and his friends made her nervous. But she got a text from Lilith, asking for help."

Jody slid the phone into his hands so he could read for himself what happened.

8:45pm

>>Lilith: feeling weird. wanna leave.

8:48pm

>>Lilith: meg hlp. someing in mdrink

8:51pm:

>>Lilith: hlp geT me

He estimated the texts had been sent around the time he and Meg had been talking. Having those ear infections was infuriating. It'd taken weeks to regain his hearing, which meant he likely hadn't heard Lilith’s text notifs alerting. 

Remembering how her attention shifted so suddenly from his confession to something else...it made perfect sense. She would've seen these messages and been sick with panic. That's why she'd bailed!

"Castiel, I love who you are. She loved who you are. The way you'd light up when talking about your exchange student friend a few years back..we had our suspicions. But hoped you'd share, when ready. Leaving you during that conversation..can't imagine how hard it must've been for her. But she wouldn't have been the Meg _we_ loved, if she hadn't acted to help a friend in need."

"Never asked about the details. I was already sick, and then..it felt like the world was ending and I'd caused it. If she'd reacted that badly, telling you would be so much worse."

"My wishes are simple. For you to be loved and respected by someone who makes you like yourself. Somebody challenging you to live your best life. I couldn’t care less if they're a guy or a girl, what matters to me is how they make you _feel._ Meg agreed."

Cas buried his face in her pillow, crying everything out. And she let him. He told her about Eileen, and she promised to contact Mrs. Naomi the next day to offer the department's assistance, should she want it. 

He confessed his reaction to Dean and Sam knowing from the first day of school Eileen was a ghost. She understood both his hurt and regret, advising him to think hard on it. What his response might've been, without seeing the evidence for himself. In truth, he would've been filled with rage and denial at their audacity to make such a claim.

Jody fell asleep beside Cas, holding his hand. Beyond exhausted, he should've passed out. Yet by three am, he'd remembered various times Dean wanted and tried to talk with him, but life got in the way. Nearly levitating off the bed with the need to apologize, he carefully extricated himself and wrote a note, leaving it next to his mom. 

The idea of waking Dean up at this unholy hour with more drama had him questioning his sanity. But what he wanted to say couldn't wait, so he'd take his chances. Grabbing his phone, he quietly sent a text off into the night.

**☆☆☆☆☆**

>> Cas: So sorry 4 what I said. Didn't mean it. U prob never want 2 c me again. In case u do, I'll b @ Huntings State Beach 4 a while.

Dean was so tired he didn't trust his eyes until re-reading it. 

<<Dean: Want 2 c u. Leaving now.

Thankful Sam had nudged John to his own room, he peeled the damp clothes off and bundled up in fresh, warm ones. He left a note on the kitchen table, and slipped out outside to Baby. 

The storm had simmered to a light mist and the roads, although slick, boasted only vestiges of the earlier fog. Dean switched on the radio to clear his fatigue, and by the time he pulled in beside Cas's truck, the nerves in his tummy were clawing at him.

He'd almost jumped out of Baby to talk with Cas in his truck, but the C10's driver door was open with his maybe-ex-boyfriend climbing down to slide in next to him. 

Dean expected Cas to look tired and upset. However, when taking in his swollen, bloodshot eyes and pallor of his skin, he felt sick for the guy. If he didn't know any better, which ironically he absolutely did..he'd say Cas looked like he'd seen a ghost. 

He reached behind his seat to grab a few drinks from the ice chest he almost always carried, and offered Cas water or a Coke. Choosing the stiffer drink, Cas opened the can with a loud "k-ch'sss" and downed half the icy beverage in a single gulp. 

"Thanks."

Dean started to say"Cas, 'm s-" but was cut off.

"You don't have anything to apologize for. Neither does Sam. It's on me. All of it's on me." He declared, while nervously running fingers through his hair. 

"I've been through some stuff. I thought it was my fault and began making assumptions, it's rolled into a bad habit."

Dean noticed him pausing, as if expecting him to call bullshit or something. Respectfully remaining silent, he'd earn his trust come hell or high water.

"I remember times you wanted to talk, but you couldn't, or something got in your way. Never told my sister goodbye. The idea you guys knew, meant your choice was preventing me from another one. I wasn't thinking clearly. T-tell me we can still be friends, please."

His racing heart lurched in his chest. "Yeah, I forgive you. But, you don't wanna go out with me anymore?"

Dean's innards were turning to ice at the thought of breaking up. He'd assumed they had already until the text, but dammit! Had his emotions rocketed past logic this easily? 

Cas's face suddenly became hopeful again. Dean was certain his heart had begun pinballing against everything inside him. What next? Whiplash?

"You still want to be my boyfriend after I just screwed up so bad?" 

"Hell, yes. I've messed up plenty too. Tonight was a disaster, and you weren't prepared for any of it."

Cas took the deepest, longest breath Dean had ever witnessed. "I'm happy you still want me. Been a rough couple of years. You make me feel good again."

Leaning in close enough to feel Cas's body warmth, Dean lightly rested his hand on the back of his neck, brushing the dark tendrils which began curling with growth from weeks earlier. 

"I want that for you too. How can I help?" he wondered.

"Be you. Spend time with me. Sam too. And Zeke. I used to have more friends. After Meg, I couldn't bring myself to go out anymore. Didn't feel right, because she couldn't, and it was my fault, I _thought._ "

"Tell me about it? If you can."

"Pfft! If you have a few hours and nothing else to do."

Dean planted a kiss, slow building and pleasant on his boyfriend’s lips. 

"Luckily, my schedule is clear, I'd planned on sleeping till noon." 

A light returned in Cas's eyes at the remark. Dean let himself be pulled back into a delicious Coca Cola flavored kiss, this time with a hint of tongue. He became astutely aware of his body turning over, with all the heat and adrenaline of Baby rev'ing at the starting line in Daytona. And as much as he _ached_ to punch the pedal and go there with Cas, it wasn't the right time. 

They needed to hear each other out, begin building a foundation. This pair of racing hearts deserved to be sated, more than their cooling..engines. Of course, Dean was already internally vowing to help him 'feel good' soon. And Cas's enjoyable reaction assured there'd be no shortage of enthusiasm when learning all the ways to make that happen.

When beginning to pull away, Cas's lips pressed softly against his own, and Dean's hands gently brushed through his hair. Cas kissed him with the fervor of a soul in dire need of air. It desperately pleaded for a pause in time, craving a precious moment with each other without fear of judgement or condemnation. The kiss was a medicinal balm to Dean's soul.

Slowing things down was rather painful, yet Dean found he liked reeling Cas in just as much as firing him up. They cuddled up in front of the heater, and over the next few hours Dean listened intently, not minding in the least when Cas rambled or needed to pause. 

"Sounds like she was supportive. I'm sure she was happy you told her, though."

Cas nodded, and Dean sensed another small, melancholy wave beginning to swell.

"Meg was going to study nursing, and wanted to live in Hawaii.

"Sorry she never got the chance. But Cas, she died doing something she was called to do."

Dean's heart melted watching Cas's eyebrows furrow, while tilting his head in the most adorable way. 

"Help."

"She was good at that. You are too. Sam's so lucky you're his big brother."

Dean had been escaping his past for a few hours by living in Cas's, so his intrinsic habit of self deprecation hit before reminding himself of the truth. Although something must've shown in his expression. 

Cas delicately asked, "Did I say something wrong?"

"No. Just..uh, put some of my own past to rest too. Been a long night for both of us," Dean explained. 

"I just spent hours unloading a ton of TMI on you, I want to know as many things about you as you know about me." 

Normally, Dean would be as comfortable sharing this information as a cat slow dancing with a squid. Yet Cas had ghosts of his own, which made the idea of opening up less squicky. 

"A long, long time ago in a galaxy far far away…"

As the sun rose, breaking through the clouds, Dean couldn't believe how light he felt. He'd heard somewhere that confession was good for the soul. His wasn't perfect and shiny, but its brightness shone through the darkness he'd held onto for so long. 

Cas left no doubt as to his sincerity when he said, "Thank you for telling me Dean."

The corner of his mouth was upturned into a little smile, just before stealing another kiss. "Now look at that, Angel." He smirked, then pointed to the horizon.

Greeting the day and them, was a stunning rainbow dancing upon the Atlantic's surface. 

"It's beautiful."

"You're giving it some major competition, Cas."

Cas returned fire with, "That's sooooo….."

"Dude, if you say gay-"

Screeching in fake offense, Cas covered his mouth and pointed accusingly at Dean. "RUDE. Was gonna say cheesy but you said it, not me."

Then both launched into a competition of who could tell the most hilarious "You know how I know yer gay," jokes.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anybody else feel emotionally drained? (*sorta raises hand). Time to read the happy in this Destiel ever after!


	13. Chapter 13

Later that evening, Dean laced his hand with Cas's, as he and Jody walked through the entryway of the Winchesters’ humble abode with yummy smelling food. Both boys had awakened several hours later, to find their parents had been in contact and made plans for dinner. 

"Hi, Dean, you sleep well?" Jody sang.

"Good enough, yeah. My dad's out back, you can put the food out there too."

Leading them through the family room, Dean opened the slider to the back where John was in his element- the grill. 

"Hey, nice to meet you, Jody! You too, Cas. My boys sure like hanging out with you."

"Same. Dean and Sam are good friends."

John directed Jody to put the food down on a large patio table, then showed her another nearby. A picture of Mary rested in its center with two long candles on each side, illuminating her smiling face. In the front corner was a stack of candles for guests to light, in memory of their loved ones who'd be remembered that night. 

They lit four for Meg, Lilith, Eileen, and Ruby. Then John and Jody exchanged pleasantries, while Cas was thoroughly assaulted by a pair of wagging tails and very sharp teeth.

"You got two of the pups?!" Cas squealed.

Scooping them up and handing one to Cas, Sam entered the proverbial fray. "Mine's Bones," he widely grinned.

"This is Benny," Dean introduced, scratching the pup’s chin as it wriggled in Cas's arms.

Cas shyly apologized. "Sam, I'm sorry about last night. I know you guys weren't holding back on purpose, there's never a 'right' time for news like that."

Sam shrugged his shoulders. "True. We're good though."

Benny bit Cas hard enough to draw a little blood. He squirmed until he was set down, then he barked obnoxiously at him and Dean until they grabbed his toy for tug-of-war.

"Dad and Sam barged in my room, waking me up with puppy kisses, and said to roll my ass outta bed for a BBQ."

"Food and friends is never a bad idea," Cas smiled.

"Happy All Souls, Cas." Dean's eyes sparkled with such contentedness. 

"Same. Good news; Kevin moved a little today. Mrs Tran said it's gonna be awhile before doctors can predict a specific prognosis, but the small favors matter."

The dogs loudly announced the arrival of someone else at the door, and the smile on Sam's face left no question. Within minutes, Zeke was lumbering through the sliding door, helping his parents with a plethora of Tupperware. Once they were unloaded on the table, Zeke's parents were introduced, two candles were lit, and the boys began setting up John's projector screen by the back fence as the parents settled in for beer, burgers, and Winchester banter. 

"Happy All Souls, guys," Zeke offered. Then he gently inquired to Cas, "What happened with Eileen and Ruby last night?"

Dean knew the sting they all felt from losing her would take a while to heal. Cas essentially lost a sister. Sam, a rare connection and a small crush. Dean and Zeke, a compassionate friend. Of all of her incredible gifts they'd come to appreciate, neither deaf nor deceased were among them. If Dean had to choose what he'd remember most, it would be her enduring strength of spirit. 

Hannah and Balthazar arrived carrying even more food. They lit a single candle, then John begged forgiveness his burgers weren't diner worthy.

"Does me good, getting out of my own kitchen once in a while," Balthazar waved off.

Each family pleasantly stuffed themselves silly, to the music of laughter and tears shed over the many stories of loved ones told during dinner. 

When the sun had set, and a brilliant sky shimmering with stars for all to see twinkled and waved, the families gathered chairs, pillows, and blankets near the fire pit to roast s'mores. Sam and Zeke pushed two reclining lawn chairs together and snuggled close with their pillows. 

Dean had swiped the super plush stadium chairs from the garage, and arranged them on the patio steps so he sat one step below his boyfriend. He considered it a clever strategy for leaning back into some Cas cuddles. Both were diving into their messy, campfire delights when the projector screen flickered to life. The movie was one he knew well and enjoyed.

Cas swiftly horked down the rest of his s'more and to Dean's delight, treated him to a neck massage. So he closed his eyes, relaxing into the healing touch. When hearing Kevin Costner voicing the familiar opening monologue to _Field of Dreams_ , he paused, and found himself considering the words in a new light.

" _My name's Ray Kinsella. My mom died when I was three,_ _and I suppose Dad did the best he could…"_

In fact, various scenes and quotes throughout the movie had Dean drawing parallels to himself. After it ended, he was curious to learn the rewatch had had a similar effect on Cas as well.

"Ray's equilibrium was thrown by a profound experience. He examined its consequences and wasn't sure what to do. Leading by logic was safe, but got him nowhere. His heart wanted something else, but he was afraid."

Intrigued and amused, Dean wriggled sideways in Cas's arms. "Afraid of what, Meta-mind?"

With a chuckle and a hint of sincerity, Cas explained. "Judgment and failure. The voice said, 'If you build it, they will come.' Physically, he built the field and 'they' came. But metaphorically, when he followed his heart, which meant risking the judgement he feared by trusting and sharing with others, he reaped the true benefits of what he'd really built."

Not only was Dean seriously impressed by the analysis, he saw a previously absent peace welling in Cas. 

"Which was?" he asked, inching closer to Cas's lips.

"A foundation of trust within his community. And from that, he gained a stronger connection with someone he'd loved and lost."

"Thank you, Captain Catharsis."

Cas scoffed and eye rolled, but Dean held his face millimeters from his own, staring deep into his eyes. 

"Took us a while to trust and share what we've carried. We laid the foundation, and look what's happened. I feel better about my mom, and my dad finally understands me. You feel better about Meg and are breathing deeply for the first time, being completely yourself. In less than twenty four hours we've been surrounded with family who accept us. This backyard and what's in it is our Field of Dreams."

A pensive expression settled across Cas's face as he let Dean's words sink in. 

A few seconds later Dean slid on a pair of sunglasses, bouncing them up and down the bridge of his nose, and smoothly delivered, "I'm thinking our 'future's so bright, we gotta wear shades."

Stifling a laugh, Cas placed Dean's right hand on his chest, covering it with his own, and returned fire.

"You're the only boy who makes my heart beat faster and slower at the same time."

Not to be outdone, Dean responded with a classic. "I look at you, and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world."

"Now that, perfectly sums up how I feel about you."

As the stars looked down upon a happy gathering of remembrance, Dean and Cas relaxed into a brief but blissful kiss, revelling in the knowledge they had a boyfriend who understood them. Valued them. Cared for them. And whenever life got rocky, they could trust the other to be right there beside them, _in a heartbeat._

~Epilogue~

**_January 2, 2020_ **

**_Winter Break_ **

"Yes. Here we go. Bring it in. Come on. Pelvis to pelvis. Let's go tip to tip. There we go, the kids call this docking."

Dean giggled in the middle of a cozy makeout sesh on the couch with Cas, while watching Ryan Reynolds kick everybody in the funny boner in _Deadpool 2._

"Is there a knife in my dick?" Dean mouthed Wade Wilson's lines with mischievous glee.

Cas mouthed back Cable’s line, "There's a knife in your dick, yeah." Then he leaned back in to kiss Dean, but was gently pushed back. 

"C'mon, you don't wanna catch this cold. School's starting back up, and it's no fun without you there. Wanna kiss you forever, but I hate when you're out."

Far from deterred, Cas threw his right leg over Dean's lap, rolling on top of him and seductively replied, "I've had worse in my mouth, and you haven't complained."

Dean's only response was a smug smile followed up with, "Yer welcome."

Inch by inch, a very mischievous Cas shimmied down Dean's legs. Soon as his grabby hands reached for the zipper, _Boyfriend_ hit the brakes again. His pout must've truly been something to behold, because right away he was yanked into the warmth of Dean's side and silenced with smooth, plump lips and the hint of a most beguiling tongue. Within no time, his head was swimming and his heart racing to rhythm of love and hormones. 

"I'm loving the gutter your mind lives in these days, but your mom just pulled up outside. We can take Baby out later, work on soothing both our sore throats, hm?" Dean smiled before bestowing a quick peck on his lips, before Jody waltzed through the front door.

Never had an idea been so alluring and crushing all at once. _Fine_ , Cas huffed to himself. Good thing he and Dean were wearing roomy hoodies. Turns out his mom was awesomely chill with them snuggling like lovesick puppies sprawled on the couch. And they showed their appreciation by not pushing their luck. 

"Hey guys," Jody chimed, walking past their cuddlefest as if it were a run-of-the-mill Thursday, because it was. "Feeling better, Dean?"

Dumping her purse on the counter, she dropped a thick rectangular envelope on Cas's lap, before settling at the other end of the couch to flip through the rest of the mail. 

"Yeah, it's on it's way out," he scooted up to properly chat with her.

Cas was frozen. The business envelope resting in his hands was like lead. The wording at the top left corner read, _Congressional Art Foundation._

He looked up at Jody, who was trying not to appear on pins and needles. 

Dean blurted out, "If you're not gonna open it, I will. You've worn a trench to the mailbox from checking for it so many times."

Flipping it over and tearing it open, he found himself unable to unfold the pages in his hands. So he thrust them into Dean's, who began reading aloud.

_"Mr. Castiel Mills,_

_Congratulations. It is our great pleasure to inform you_ _that you have been awarded the 2020 Congressional Arts Scholarship Award. We were impressed with the passion and skill so evident in your submission piece. Enclosed is a check for $12,000, and documentation you'll need when registering this Fall at the academic institution of your choosing. We believe you'll contribute a great deal to the art community, and wish you luck in your studies."_

"Yes!" Jody jumped from the couch with both hands raised to the heavens. 

Dean leaned over, crushing him in his arms. "I knew you'd get it, Cas." 

He shivered at the miniscule vibration from his boyfriend murmuring in his ear, before receiving a solid kiss on the cheek. 

"Narrowed down any schools yet?" Jody lightly prodded.

"University of South Carolina. The art program is really good. And there's so many galleries up and down the coast for work." Cas knew Jody would miss him, but if she could support Meg planning a move to Hawaii and study, then the two hour drive to U.S.C.B. would be a cake walk.

She already had the next question locked and loaded, ready to fire. "What are your plans, Dean?"

He laid back into Cas's arms with ease. "My heart's in welding. Nice thing is, it's needed everywhere. And the military's been subcontracting for deep water welders. Wherever Cas goes, I can go."

Cas watched the relief blooming in his mother's face, while it sunk in that her son had a brilliant future he was passionate about, and a boy who loved him to share it with. Jody had quieted briefly, but the glowing pride in her eyes hadn't diminished in the slightest. Looking above the fireplace mantle at the copy of he and his sister animatedly bantering by moonlight, she softly spoke. "Meg would be so very proud of you."

She flung herself on the boy-pile of hugs, and Cas hugged her and Dean back with gusto. The likeness of Meg in his painting seemed to be smiling down at him, with the same light and love as she'd had for him in life. 

He finally felt whole again. He'd never be the same person as before his sister died. Growth, courage, and love had propelled him forward. Allowing the right people in and trusting them, had transformed all their lives.

The kind brave enough to lay ghosts to rest, but always carry their spirits with them. Because that's what Ohana is. Family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand Destiel Ever After! I had to write a Dean and Cas version of the film. It melted my heart and continues to inspire hope that one day, kids won't have the added worry about acceptance they do now. They'll hopefully pursue their hearts desire, no matter the gender, with the standard apprehension which accompanies any teen crush. 
> 
> Obviously someone's heart cannot burst from their chest and out them. I broke the film short down into four major events and created symbolic ways of paralleling what happened. 
> 
> 1-Boy spies on boy eating an apple and reading, while dangling from a tree./Cas bumping his head and seeing flying Impalas.  
> 2-Heart orchestrates a calamitous meet-bump between the boys./Cas's iPod entanglement and almost kiss.  
> 3-Paper airplane almost-disaster threatens to reveal the boys true feelings./Cas's sketch gone airplane and almost found by Dean.  
> 4- The boys heart displays affection towards his crush, revealing to everyone his true feelings, resulting in his heart tearing in half./Bart's jerk outing and Cas's daydream sketch tearing in half.
> 
> When realizing the rising action would occur on Halloween, it became clear that November 1st (All Soul's Day) was an extremely appropriate time to conclude the story. 
> 
> Ghosts are part of why we fell in love with Supernatural and our main characters are burdened with them, physically and metaphorically. This story allowed me to free them in a way the show might never afford. I hope you found it as satisfying as I did!
> 
> The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades."- Gotta Wear Shades, Timbuk 3
> 
> "You're the only boy who makes my heart beat faster and slower at the same time."-Rachel McAdams, the Hot Chick
> 
> "I look at you, and I would rather look at you than all the portraits in the world…”-Having a Coke With You, by Frank O’Hara.


End file.
